


Gears of Time

by Illusioneery (Arkee)



Series: Tales From The Castle Of Clouds [1]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: (for the time being but it can change along the way), Branching Timelines, Canon-Typical Violence, Deus Ex Machina, F/M, Fix-It, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Local Goddess Does Something That Leaves Cloud Strife Pissed Off, M/M, More Warnings In Description if Needed, Multiple Instances Of The Same Character, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Safer Sephiroth Except This Time He's Good, Shapeshifting, Slow Burn, Some Crack-like Humor Sometimes, Time Travel, Untagged Background Relationships, Usual Time Travel Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2018-09-13 01:49:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 56,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9101032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arkee/pseuds/Illusioneery
Summary: In an alternate timeline, the Planet decided to take matters into its own hands and make an ally out of a well known enemy. This has made Cloud Strife upset and was regarded by him as a bad move in the beginning. But little did he know about the fate awaiting ahead or of the journey he was about to embark on.





	1. An Unexpected Advent

**Author's Note:**

> This was once a prompt in a series of prompts I had for myself in a little list of "What if you bring Sephiroth back to his senses in different situations" that eventually saw the light of the day as a draft that sat still for too long and cooked slowly in low heat and odd references here and there. (Yum!) Also making use of something I won't say what is, since spoilers, that was discussed a long time ago.
> 
> Anyway, I'm happy to have this one out and going! I hope it's an enjoyable ride!!

He thought aloud, when they departed for the Northern Crater, that he'd be the one to deliver the final blow to whatever had become of Sephiroth, for he had his reasons to prevent anyone else from doing so. Vincent seemed to understand and even support him, though the man rarely spoke and had a bad habit of doing so in an almost cryptic way. He could almost feel the conflicting emotions coming from his friend, before he was left behind in Midgar with Yuffie to help with the evacuation process; a war going on inside the young man that talked of wanting to save the Planet with a tinge of revenge and a set of confusing, complicated feelings. The demons in his head were unquiet, especially Chaos. But then again, he had come to terms with that restlessness and had a reasonable degree of control over it, so it wasn’t that troublesome in the end.

* * *

That day, so many years before, Sephiroth left the mansion’s library — where he had been for exactly one week, going through document after document, believing everything he found there to be the truth he had been looking for — and set Nibelheim ablaze with a power akin of that of Ifrit, slaying down whoever got in his way. It wasn’t like any other normal Fire spell that one would see as often, that could be put down easily if some effort was involved, and thus, the village burned down until it was nothing but black ashes, until the one who started it had calmed down for the time being, taken away by the will of the Planet.

Cloud had stood his ground, tried to stop the man to gain some time, but he was simply pushed out of the way with enough force to be sent to the ground.

The look he saw on the General’s face made something inside him break. This wasn’t the man he had accompanied with Zack and the other two cadets to his hometown in the mountains, not the one he admired, but a broken, corrupted version of Sephiroth, a stranger that looked like him but who had lost everything, merciless enough to kill anything in his path.

Cloud managed a weak “Why...?” that was met with a cold “Because you are a traitor, just like everybody else.”

When Cloud made his way to the reactor, seeing death and hurt in his way up, there was nothing else to do but face that demon, even though a tiny part of him wanted to reach out, wanted to fix things so that, at least, he could save the silver haired man from himself.

( _Cloud… finish Sephiroth… off_.)

And he did it. But by then, something had already changed.

* * *

Cloud wanted to be the one that would close the wound and bear the scars resulting of it. It was needed, it offered him a possible relief for all he had lost in that journey. (Nobody ever said it would be easy; doing what was right for the sake of the Planet.) He was ready to do what was necessary, to bring justice to an unfair world, even though the sky fell down on him.

But as it turned out, he never needed to.

By the time they had reached the world's enemy — or rather, nothing but a mere puppet for Jenova's wishes — and fought the bizarre being that just so vaguely resembled their enemy in appearance, managing to win, _something changed_. It wasn't the fact that what they defeated turned out to be just a cocoon for a winged god or that the party found themselves in a place surrounded by nothing but clouds, but something else, inside Sephiroth. The former General was made aware of his actions, of the actual truth regarding his origins, the state of Gaia, endangered by the Meteor he summoned.

The Planet had chosen to become one with him, in hope that this man, who had just become a god of sorts, could use his strength and knowledge to change its fate.

Minerva, the balance of life and death, the goddess that was the will of Gaia herself, had looked at Sephiroth and decided.

 _God, albeit in a different way. But also an angel. He shall protect, not destroy. He can still be saved. Not his fault that he’s misled, he's hurt. He must come to terms with the darkness that was set into his heart to save the others_.

And from the Lifestream, the goddess took action before Cloud could slash her new found warrior into fragments. Whatever remained from the Calamity's will was crushed in the process due to how weak Jenova had gotten after having her body annihilated, a red line of Lifestream dancing in the air chaotically before vanishing.

Everything came to Sephiroth so fast that it was like lightning striking during a storm. It was practically intoxicating.

( _Your mother was a woman of science. Lucrecia Crescent. Your father is haunted by so many demons from the past. Literal demons, too. Chaos roars inside him. He mourns what has become of her. He mourns the future they never had. The girl with dangerous fists also mourns. Longs for someone beyond a wall of complications. The Wutaian who isn’t present has seen her land fall from its grace. A man has lost more than just his arm. One from the dry canyon who has been taken as a test subject once. Just like you. That one good pilot who speaks harshly at times but is honest and kind at heart. A cat machinery from a good soul from Shinra. The place Hojo belonged, once. Calamity. The enemy. Shinra. The enemy. SOLDIER. Angeal. The guardian angel. Genesis. The one left as a knight. Longing to protect. Zack Fair. Died as a hero. Reactors. Death. You ordered the execution of the one willing to give her life to save them all, who now watches over an afterlife garden. The young man from whom you took almost everything. The one who saw you break and thinks you’re far too lost, far too gone. He who once longed for too much but now mourns even for moments of happiness. The one who has broken down with you. Chosen one. One to be protected._ )

He spiralled down, the six wings below his waist flapping helplessly, trying to keep him steady but failing their task. The party watched, quite surprised as the godly being landed atop the clouds, not so far away from them.

"You will... survive." Sephiroth managed at last, looking straight at Cloud, though he meant that for more than just the group standing before him. Cloud shot him a look that bore a mix of confusion, anger, maybe sadness and something that Sephiroth couldn't tell what was, and he had no luck as the Planet wouldn't tell him what it was. "I can destroy Meteor."

"How are we supposed to fuckin’ believe yer sorry ass?" Cid retorted from where he stood, just behind Tifa and Barret.

When the angelic being opened his mouth again, a voice other than his own left him in the most surreal and ironic of the ways. It was feminine, familiar, yet unexpected. _Aerith_.

"The Planet has chosen him as its savior. I don't know why, the Planet does some strange things sometimes. But he's alright now. No longer mad." She assured. "He's so free from Jenova’s influence now that I can even talk to him and through him. And he can destroy it... better than Holy." A pause, way too silent as those present tried to process that situation. "By the way, Cloud... Zack asked me to say 'hello'."

Cloud didn't know how to feel, but his stomach was revolting against him, for sure. He, from all the others present, had every single reason to almost desperately _need_ to shove a Buster Sword all the way into that mocking image of a god. He was deprived of the vengeance and closure he had longed for, for what? So the Planet could work its messed up ways of fixing things? He almost felt mad at Aerith for that, even though it wasn’t really her fault. (Because who, after death, would deliberately choose to fix, perhaps even forgive, their murderer?)

“Why?” He was aware that no answer was to be obtained from his question, but still couldn’t prevent it from leaving his lips, not when he stood there, looking small and oh, so pathetic from having come all this way to achieve nothing of what he hoped he would.

The truth was that Cloud was tired of the Planet playing pranks on him. It was almost selfish of him to expect to get what he wanted at that point, (even though it wouldn’t give his Nibelheim back to him, wouldn’t give him the years he had lost, neither Aerith and Zack, even though it could only give him closure) but he had hopes of achieving something other than only the salvation of Gaia, something rather personal and one of the reasons he had to fight for, and such wishes were utterly crushed. For a moment he wanted to believe that it was Jenova’s ability of copying features such as looks and voice and that he could still wreck that feathered mess before him.

Sephiroth looked at him with the most serene of the expressions, while wings of pristine white with blue and yellow edges rearranged themselves under the cloud like formation they were attached to, closing with ease and a certain grace. Long eyelashes fluttered closed. No, he had no answer to provide for that indignation. The only thing he could do was empower Holy remotely so it could blast away the destruction that was to come if he failed to destroy his Meteor. He could hear Cloud shouting that question at him again, this time completely angered, as Sephiroth went through the words for his spell.

Exactly seven minutes passed, with an unsatisfied Cloud, a confused and slightly betrayed group and a very focused Sephiroth before anything happened to change that.

_Four hundred twenty seconds later, things changed._

Cloud’s PHS buzzed with an incoming message, which was no wonder: calls wouldn’t reach him where he was at the moment, but messages still could, for some reason or another. It was Yuffie’s number and the confirmation that he didn’t want, neither needed.

                                                                                 

_“Ok, I don’t know what exactly happened, but that_

_thing just exploded into dust… wow, good_

_job there, see you guys soon, I guess”_

 

“Meteor is gone.” Cloud simply said with disbelief. He watched Sephiroth nod a single time before opening his mako-colored eyes without any reply to that. (And also devoid of any malice in his expression, he noted.)

Should he feel bad for even wanting to bring an end to that man anymore? If he was good and clean as it seemed to be the case, would it be wrong to do what the blond wanted to for so long?

 _Damned be the Planet_ , he thought, but almost immediately regretted it.

“You are free to go n—” Sephiroth started, but was harshly interrupted by a still angered chocobo-haired swordsman.

“Shut up! You don’t… get to talk.” Reeve had barely started to confirm the details of Meteor’s demise through Cait Sith when Cloud turned to the others. “You all can mosey, I’m staying here.” Tifa wanted to protest, as she herself didn’t trust their... _former_ enemy despite everything, but didn’t get the chance to do so. “I still have something to take care of here. You go and meet up with Yuffie and Vincent. I’ll make sure that this isn’t an illusion.”

Nanaki’s tail brushing against her calves made her stop from protesting any further as she looked down and some sort of silent agreement was settled. Cloud was still their chosen leader, somehow, other than a friend they all cherished. It couldn’t keep her from wishing him to take care and to promise to come back for him before turning around to leave that chamber of clouds with the others.

“You were supposed to leave.” He heard from somewhere behind him.

“So what? So you can end the illusion and put Meteor back in the sky? No, thank you.”

“...I was intending to slumber as I serve no other purpose to the planet other than that of a Weapon.”

 _Weapons_ , Cloud thought. He had taken five of them down, even though those were meant to protect the Planet, for they had caused wreck in an attempt of preventing destruction. It sounded almost ironic when he thought of it. In the end he’d lost Aerith, destroyed Gaia’s guardians… for what if the nothingness of a battle he wouldn’t fight was what awaited him after all of that? Oh right, the Planet was safe now. And yet, he was upset with the way things sorted themselves out.

He sat down beside the winged figure of his former nemesis with a frown.

“You can still take me down if you so wish,” Sephiroth suggested, apparently reading his thoughts “make me an unidentifiable mess and leave me to rot. You could find revenge… in my eternal slumber.”

_It was so damn pointless._

“It was the batshit you who ruined my life. You’re not that person now, even though I don’t trust you.” He sighed, lowering his head to look at the clouded floor. It was so… soft, so not matching with the slaughter and terror that the silver haired man — along with Jenova — had spread across the Planet. Even the fact that Sephiroth had feathers didn’t seem to fit with anything, at all. It was like a big and very cruel joke.

Maybe all the hate that Sephiroth had for humanity had piled onto him instead as during that moment he hated himself, hated that feathered joke of a god beside him, hated Aerith for having the audacity of telling him that the monster he wanted to take down was no longer a monster, hated Zack for telling her to send a hello, hated the Planet for the ways it worked; building new Weapons from gods of destruction. Cloud hated it all with a burning passion. Perhaps he could take Sephiroth down after all and become himself a weapon of destruction, and have the others come after him to take him down as well. He would be able to finally rest. Gods, he was so tired.

“I mean it, you can still take me down anyway and—”

“You have a death wish, don’t you?" He snapped "Fucking damn it. I’m not fighting you anymore.” Cloud wrapped his arms around his knees, pulling them closer so he could hide how upset and pathetic he felt as a hero he never was in the sense he'd hoped for one day. “I’m tired of this. Just let me rest.”

And then, he heard a couple of things. The first of them was the presence beside him sighing, the second was a weird sound, like something was shifting. He didn’t want to look up to find out what exactly was happening so he just groaned in annoyance.

“I wonder if I’d look more trustable to you if I changed my looks…” That voice wasn’t Sephiroth’s, even though it unmistakably came from beside him. Cloud looked up to see Zack sitting beside him. It was terribly surreal but almost believable, if he didn’t know better, of course. “But I don’t think you remember him that well yet, so maybe…” The silver haired man shifted again, this time a perfect copy of Aerith. The ability to mimic the features of another person or being that came from Jenova’s cells was terrifying. It also felt like another bad joke. “Though I guess this isn’t fine, because of the memories she brings.” Another shift and then he was the image of Tifa.

“Just be your damn self already, I don’t care.”

Sephiroth settled down in a version of himself with shorter bangs and no bags under his eyes. Cloud realized that this was the image of the man who used to be the great hero of Shinra, from a time when he wasn’t aware of the dark secrets of that place. The Sephiroth from the moment before his world fell, prior the events that led to him living the life of another man along with his own; before those memories that didn’t belong to him seemed to fit in just fine. It seemed to him that, in some way, his former enemy was reset. The powers that came from the Calamity remained, but otherwise that really wasn’t the man who had taken down his site of birth neither the one who sent Aerith’s will to the Lifestream. (Or the one who incapacitated both Zack and him, which led to the SOLDIER’s death, in a way.) He sighed, not knowing whether to feel annoyed or just really tired.

 _That's ridiculous,_ he thought as they sat on nothing but clouds. He didn’t know why he had stayed behind if it wasn’t for his lack of conviction, even after hearing Aerith’s voice. ( _He can copy it_ , he told himself, _it might not have been her_.) Out of his group, it was him who had been the most suspicious about this more empowered, apparently sane Sephiroth that the Planet seemed to accept as one of its kin. It was just like telling him that Gaia had accepted Jenova. It didn’t feel right, it just seemed to be a cruel trick, as though the Planet was finally mocking him for failing at everything he wished he could accomplish. (Maybe not saving Tifa when she walked on that bridge had been the starting point, instead of being the only child in that doomed town to be friendless. What was presented to him at the moment was just the final straw.) It was worse than meeting his demise at the end of such a long journey because he had survived to see such a thing happen.

Of all the possible results, he was presented with a worst case scenario that he never considered. The Planet was safe and sound, but it reached that result itself, — and somehow by a certain flower girl’s prayers — denying his help and filling him with a sense of emptiness all at once.

“I was expecting to come here and just kick your ass. Maybe return with everybody and celebrate.” Cloud explained, after calming down somewhat. “But now I’m just sitting on clouds with you. I feel awful.”

_I fought for the Planet as you tried to wound it, so why did it choose you as a savior?_

“I don’t blame you. You were fighting for a cause you never concluded before that reason was terminated.” Sephiroth rose to his feet. “Let me provide you some rest before you decide to either accept what happened and move on or fall in denial and face me as what I was before.”

Cloud was still deciding whether or not to mock the man for offering him some rest, as well as that other option. It wasn’t like he could leave for Icicle Inn and book them a room and Cloud had no idea how one was supposed to rest in a chamber of nothing but clouds, even if he had some rations with him. It was almost ironic considering his own name. Perhaps the taller man was just waiting for him to get that one bad joke he probably made. Except that Sephiroth had a look of concentration rather than a playful amused grin. He was focusing as the space shifted. Maybe it was part of some divine set of powers, controlling those clouds in the room.

What the shorter man didn’t expect was to witness a mansion made of nothing but clouds form before his very eyes. However, after all he had gone through and everything he had seen, (including the wonders of the talking wolf-lion creature that happened to be Nanaki, Vincent’s ability to transform into the demons he bore and the absurdity that was Sephiroth’s godly form) that was no surprise.

“I could say it’s fitting, as you are Cloud, to get a mansion of clouds to rest in for the night.” And there it was! At least once his expectations about something didn’t go down the drain. There was even a grin to accompany it. But still, the fact that he couldn’t tell if such humor was remnant of the madness or if it was just the way the man behaved normally was bothersome. He shook his head in disbelief, not saying a thing as he stood up and approached the building.

It looked strangely fluffy; that large, clouded house. Cloud blew cold air onto it as he was close enough to the door, but yet it stood there, solid as wood but gentle to his touch. It seemed to vaguely resemble the architecture of the manor back in Nibelheim, which was slightly unsettling. However it was also oddly inviting.

“Please make yourself at home and take your time.” The voice behind him advised.

 _I might as well take mine_ , Sephiroth thought. The things he was told — the truth of a non corrupted Lifestream — were still to sink in completely, after all.

Not long before, he had no control over himself (over a version of his own self that wasn’t lost in the madness he had succumbed to) and believed that his mother was the being that wanted him to cleanse the Planet of its life just so he could travel the cosmos like she had done all those thousands of years before, that the things Jenova told him in her corrupted version of the Lifestream were soothing, that it couldn’t be a lie as she was the only family he thought he had; the mother he sought so fervently.

In the end, he had picked up the wrong side of the things and fallen into despair. (And by extension, engaged in so much more stuff that was deemed evil from the perspective of others) So it was no surprise to him that Cloud just wandered into the large, newly made mansion without any word directed to him; favoring the exploration of the place over awkward, possibly revenge filled conversation with apparent suspicion, as though not yet believing that something had changed in the course of arriving in the Northern Crater and making his way to that place, showing distrust and being reluctant before the new reality presented to him.

Sephiroth just let him be, observing from afar every time Cloud came out of a room. Maybe his previous shapeshifting had been offensive in a way, if he stopped to think of it further. The objective was to sound (and look) familiar and therefore more trustworthy, but disregarding sorrow could’ve been his mistake. His lips curved into a frown as he realized he had only upset Cloud even more.

However, there was no surprise in that: he had never been good whenever it came to dealing with people, despite recognizing the importance of bonds between others and despite his best attempts of interacting. His former enemy was no exception to that rule at all, despite being what the voice of the Planet claimed to be the _“chosen one; one to be protected”_.

Eventually, the movement stopped. It seemed that Cloud had settled down after the clear exhibit of despair of his explorations. Question remained whether or not he hoped for there to be a trick — a trap — in that large manor of clouds. At least, from the way the Lifestream in him seemed to calm down, one with perception of such a thing could reach the conclusion that the swordsman was at least trying to get some rest, which was kind of a relief.

That being the case, Sephiroth just shifted back to his godly self and settled down on the large hall, closing his eyes in concentration as he prepared himself to attempt to channel some further answers out of the Planet regarding his current situation.

* * *

“Why me?” He asked with hinted confusion.

 _Strength. The perseverance to pursue a cause_. The flat words reached him, the source of the powerful voice behind them unseen. It told him a lot and nothing at the same time. If he had been chosen based on his stubbornness, regardless of power, why hadn't the Planet pick up Cloud in his place?

Sephiroth groaned softly in annoyance. He hadn't been assigned a purpose other than protecting Gaia from any possible crisis. ( _Weapon. Waiting to defend._ ) He — and Jenova, by a certain extent — was the main crisis from what he knew of it, which was successfully averted from what Sephiroth could tell. He didn’t like riddles or the cryptical way the Planet seemed to use when regarding his questions.

“What’s wanted of me?”

 _Salvation. The chosen one is to be protected_.

 _Protect Cloud_ , basically. From what, exactly, he didn’t know. Sephiroth tried to call further for answers, but Gaia did nothing other than deny him the benefit of asking anything else for the moment. Frustration sank in, then. How was he supposed to protect someone who would obviously deny to be protected by him from all the living beings on the Planet? He wondered if Aerith (as he learned and recorded her name in his newfound sanity) knew the answer by then. Sephiroth let his mind slip further, but her presence seemed distant to him, almost out of reach. It was just a hint of a calming feeling, a touch of flower filled fields, but he could sense it. Maybe she was tending to the tormented, aiding in healing their souls just so they could partake in the flow of the Lifestream. (The very same spiritual energy he once wanted to take away to travel through the stars. The flow of life that made him a god. In the end, he was recognized as such, however it had also filled him with the annoyance that his role in the great scheme of things was yet to be determined and that his freedom was probably limited to the Planet’s wishes.)

It took long enough for his sanity to return to him. Oh, if only it were to return before he could’ve risen so high in sin; before he could’ve made the virtuous fall. If he were to be sane before he condemned her for her attempt to save the world. Maybe even before he had the chance to set his own hometown (he realized, being burned by the irony of it) ablaze, when he had the trust of others as their beloved hero and possible role model.

Sephiroth reflected back on Aerith’s words that had flown from his own lips. Gaia really did some strange things sometimes.

* * *

Cloud lay down on a bed that seemed far too comfortable to be real (especially given the surreality of what it was made of) but he couldn’t rest. He had calmed down a little, nonetheless, but thinking on what had happened still made things seem completely off.

 _Maybe_ , he thought, _I’ll wake up tomorrow and he’ll be the devil I came here to put down_.

That is, if he could sleep at all. The very presence of Sephiroth not so far from him had him unnerved, even though he could no longer feel the magnetic pull of the Jenova cells calling for a reunion; the buzz in his mind that he had learned to ignore as his adventures eventually made him mentally stronger than he was when he first joined AVALANCHE due to a circumstantial matter.

Despite it being difficult to believe, Sephiroth was as free from the alien’s influence and madness as it had been stated. Yet, Cloud was expecting him to break down on his own accord, perhaps out of the habit of picturing the fallen General as a madman he was meant to defeat in the end.

He sighed, turning on his side and making the almost too ethereal clouded bed shift beneath his weight. That sigh almost turned into a gasp as he caught a glimpse of a robed figure standing by the door and flinched at the sudden presence. Maybe it was just Sephiroth being an ass and trying to scare him with that awful ability of shapeshifting.

Whether that was the case or not, the person standing there didn’t seem to mind his fright. But then again it was difficult to tell with not just the hood, but a mask concealing their features as well. The person took a step and stopped then, almost hesitantly, clad in robes of a white so pristine that one could almost assume the figure was part of that building of clouds as well, were it not for the delicate, blue starry patterns that decorated the edge of the hood and the long sleeves that kept the person’s hands hidden.

Cloud felt his fight or flee instinct kick in as the robed person approached cautiously as one does when intending to help a wounded animal. He sat on the bed as soon as he could, ready to take down the other one if it happened to be just a dirty trick from Sephiroth.

But all that the mysterious person did was to reach out a red, closer to orange, gloved hand holding a piece of materia, as if they were handing it over to him. They grew insistent before his confusion of whether or not he should take the small sphere, so he obliged and freed the apparent stranger of the round object, noticing the figure flinch away a little to avoid direct contact with him.

“Listen,” the person said, voice familiar in Cloud’s ears (more than it should’ve been); practically impossible in nature “you’re going to save him… so he doesn’t end up like this.” He pointed at the materia in the his hands. Blue eyes averted their gaze from the hollowness of the mask to look at the sphere. Red. A summon materia, then. It had a small crack on its surface and looked duller than usual, but it was definitely a summon materia.

“Who?” He asked, confused about what that sphere had to do with anything that so familiar voice asked of him.

“You will know when it’s time. Just… use your time well, alright? And don’t lose yourself. It’s hard to navigate back once you move forward… well, that’s backwards for me.”

Cloud arched an eyebrow at him, not quite getting what the robed man meant.

“Oh yeah, that’s right. It won’t make sense for you now. Just remember this, please. And don’t let Sephiroth ever come near this.” The mysterious — or rather, impossible — figure pointed at the materia before moving away from him, towards the door of the bedroom. “Now,” he chuckled, recalling something nostalgic for a moment “I’m gonna mosey.”

* * *

When Cloud tried to follow the robed man outside, he found nothing but Sephiroth — in that strange, almost ethereal seraph form of his — in what seemed to be either a deep slumber or, possibly, a very deep state of meditation; six wings spread on the cloudy floor of the building and the seventh resting by his side.

The summon materia he had with him seemed to react to the presence of his former enemy, glowing faintly — even if Cloud hadn’t tried to activate it — before returning to that unusual dullness it had. Perhaps its malfunction was because of the crack on its otherwise unharmed surface, but he had never seen a damaged materia to be sure of it. He watched as Sephiroth twitched just slightly before the soft glow gave out.

Cloud thought of that impossible meeting, of that painfully familiar voice coming out from someone who wasn’t technically him. Sephiroth wasn’t trying to do something that could very well destroy the Planet and Cloud had just talked to himself, somehow. It felt surreal.

He left before his former nemesis could come to his senses and realize his presence. The last thing he needed at the moment was Sephiroth questioning him.

* * *

The day following that one came with no incidents, no uprising evil trying to wipe all life from the world or anything similar. There was nothing but a text from Tifa, sent quite a while before he woke up, asking him if he was alright. He didn’t know what to reply to her. While everything was surprisingly good, there was still the hurt and confusion lingering on him. Cloud just typed that he was fine, which was not a lie about his physical condition but it wasn’t true about his mind either.

After quietly gathering his things, the blond paced from that cloudy bedroom to the main hall, keen on leaving the place as soon as he could. It was only to find Sephiroth awaiting him, shifted back to his “normal” self.

“I’ve made a decision.” The taller man announced.

“And that is?”

“I’m accompanying you from this point onwards.” It was no question, just a notice said plainly, without much room for protests.

“I don’t remember saying you could.” Cloud retorted.

“Think. There’s nothing left for me to do here and you’re suspicious of my intentions. I could get to do something and you could keep an eye on me.” In his mind, it sounded like a solid plan.

“Alright, alright, but uh… change? The wrong people could recognize you.” Interestingly enough, Sephiroth chose to assume the semblance of Vincent. It was good enough to fool anyone, but yet, there could be the danger of them running into the real deal in public. Cloud sighed. “Could you change into someone other than one of my friends?”

Vincent-Sephiroth stared at him as if he was offended by having such a thing pointed out to him. Even stranger, Cloud could almost swear that it was a look that the actual Vincent could’ve given him on the right occasion. “Fine.”

He was expecting anything but the large hound that took the place of the man who previously stood before him, almost as big as a Nibel wolf and bearing a soft coat of white fur. Ironically enough, that massive amount of fur only made Cloud think about… well, a cloud. Either that or a ghost, if such dog were to run in one’s direction in the darkness of the night. As if Sephiroth didn’t look ghostly enough already, what with having come back to life and all.

“Who would say that the man who ruined my life could become such a fluffy, innocent looking dog…” Cloud said, almost sarcastically “But that one works. Let’s mosey.”

* * *

Some time later, when the cold winds were biting at him despite his enhancements, Cloud understood why his former nemesis had picked a fluffy looking dog from all the beings he could become. It made him wonder if even in that godly state and being able to morph into anyone or anything, trivial things such as weather could still bother Sephiroth.

Speaking of which, Sephiroth shifted back upon noticing that he was lingering too far behind, promptly striping himself of his leather coat and offering it to him, who accepted it, albeit a little puzzled. Sephiroth didn’t seem bothered by the cold at all, at least not just yet.

“I apologize. I thought your enhancements would keep you warm.”

“They do, but… too much wind.” Cloud seemed like he had his ego wounded by the man having to stop to offer him some way to stay warm.

“I could turn into a chocobo. We’d get to Icicle Inn much faster this way.” He couldn’t help but offer.

“I’m not riding you.”

“Hn, stubborn.” Sephiroth murmured before changing into a dog again.

* * *

In the end, there was no other solution but to have Sephiroth become a chocobo until they were by the outskirts of the town. Cloud’s ego was bruised by having to take on that offer, but with a snowstorm approaching, he’d rather get to safety sooner than later.

But by then he was faced with another problem, that didn’t concern getting into an inn room with a dog that big by his side — since, to his amusement, the innkeeper actually insisted for him and “Fenrir” to stay — but the issue of only having one bed in that room. Cloud had seen such a situation before, in books, movies and even while chasing Sephiroth across Gaia; as the result of having such a large group. But it still couldn’t prevent him from the awkwardness the current situation presented.

It only felt worse considering that it wasn’t even night yet. They had a long time to wonder about it but, for sure, Cloud already knew he didn’t want to share a bed. He also didn’t want to have Sephiroth sleep on the floor and that conflict in his head only grew stronger after he got something to eat.

The moment after he said his goodbyes to Tifa over the phone that night, being properly informed that Midgar was indeed safe despite the new issue with those who suffered of respiratory problems due to the amount of Meteor dust that had fallen over the city, Sephiroth finally decided to ask.

“What’s it that you look so concerned about?”

“It’s nothing.” Cloud tried to brush it aside.

“Hn, but it sure looks like it’s something. Come now, it’s written all over your face.” And with the kind of situations he had put Cloud through due to Jenova’s influence, if anyone in the Planet could read Cloud Strife’s expressions and behavior the best, that would be him.

“We only have one bed.”

Sephiroth tilted his head in confusion. _One bed and…?_ What was the problem there when he could just shapeshift and sleep anywhere? He entered that inn as a large hound, to begin with. Hel, when he was serving under Shinra’s command as their General, he slept on worse places than an inn’s floor. And oh, the carpet in that inn was so nice that compared to those days, it actually made for a quite comfortable place to rest.

“I’m not sharing the bed with you.” Cloud simply added.

“I know. I never required you to do otherwise.” But he sat on said bed, anyway. “Which prompts a question: Would you want to, if I wasn’t who I am?”

“Serious question or just you trying to work your way into the bed?” Cloud sighed.

“The former.” Though he wouldn’t mind sleeping on something warm and more comfortable.

Cloud didn’t even think on it too long before answering “No. I’d just push you out of the bed.”

“And if it was just me trying to get into the bed?” Sephiroth grinned at him looking amused with the idea or maybe just happy to tease, he couldn’t say.

“Would’ve worked with a younger me, but right now? I would probably tell you to fuck off.” And then he thought he had never, ever, seem that man with such a shocked expression in his face. As if that answer wasn’t something Sephiroth had been expecting from him at all, and probably wasn’t, so he felt the need to elaborate. “You know all those guys who got into Shinra because of all that propaganda with your face on it? I was probably the worst of them all.”

“...Silver Elite?”

“Yes, that too, and with a lot of merch to go along. I kinda wanted to be like you… or at least the version of you they promoted.” He wasn’t even ashamed to let that out. It didn’t matter anymore, anyway. “But then… Nibelheim sort of happened.”

Sephiroth was quiet for a long moment. Those were details he didn’t learn with the initial burst of information he received upon obtaining the blessings of the Goddess herself. And the nature of them made something in him sink uncomfortably. How was he supposed to protect that man when he had, himself, taken away so much like that? When he knew that for those joining the army because of him, he was probably the moon and the stars above, even if the truth behind his position of power was much more grim? Probably some sort of divine punishment for his actions then, to be defeated by someone who one day looked up to him and after putting said someone through so much trouble, to be informed that he was required to protect that man from… something or someone, he couldn’t tell.

There was simply no apology strong enough to be worthy of forgiveness.

And with that, he was once again a hound, tucking his tail and taking the floor as his bed, for he could no longer withstand that kind of conversation. Thankfully, Cloud didn’t force him to, simply wishing a slightly confused “Good night”.

* * *

 _“Omega. The last resort.”_ It was whispered to him in his sleep. _“Omega. To the cosmos beyond. Fate. Cruel and uncertain.”_ In his dream, flames burned high around him, moving as if dancing and engulfing whatever they touched. Visions of fire like this were common at this point, given his role in the destruction of Nibelheim and the images that sometimes flashed through his mind as memories of that day.

But this was something different from Nibelheim.

The dead, in all sorts of different states, were the most noticeable thing. Some seemed as if they were there for a very long time, others looked like they had fallen just recently. Sephiroth watched as the last of them fell from the skies, bat-like wings flapping helplessly. He flew as fast as he could to catch the falling being.

It was then that he saw it. The final Weapon, Omega. In comparison to it, he felt like the sand in a bucket sitting on the beach. So tiny and powerless, and terrified enough to hold onto the dead humanoid in his arms tighter. The Lifestream moved, gathering into the gigantic creature and awakening the fires that consumed everything.

_“Omega. The end to begin anew.”_

Sephiroth knew why the Lifestream was gathering. This was different from trying to heal a wound on the Planet. It was going to move away and leave behind an empty, floating rock devoid of life to restart the cycle somewhere else that was more suitable for the task of housing living beings. And to do so it needed all life to end. But he still didn’t know why he was being shown such images.

To think that one day, he too wanted to travel the cosmos in a way that would’ve killed everything in such a manner… was a more than just upsetting. And holding tightly onto the bearer of Chaos, the seraph could only think that he’d do anything in his power to prevent anyone from witnessing such a thing.

* * *

Out of surprise, he barked at Cloud for waking him up after that. Oh, right, he was still a dog. His mind literally went places and he still wondered if protecting him would prevent the things he saw.

“Morning. Cid says he’s gonna come to get us to Midgar.” Cloud yawned and petted his head. It made him wonder, as he leaned into the touch, if Cloud had been doing so while he slept. “You were crying in your sleep.” He was fast in pulling his hand away as if he had realized to whom he was offering that little amount of affection. “Bad dream?”

Sephiroth nodded, then shifted back. “ _Terrible_ dream.”

“I… I weirded you out last night, didn’t I?” he averted his gaze for a moment, sounding vaguely upset.

“No, it’s just… I wasn’t prepared to hear that and I might… have realized things about everything I took away from you.” He sighed. “That no apology would be enough, to begin with. Maybe the only way I could make it up to you would be going back in time to prevent myself from burning down Nibelheim. Which not only is impossible but you wouldn’t even remember.”

 _Time travel_. It made the strange exchange he had with himself — or rather a version of himself — come into mind again. He thought a lot about it, replaying the scene in his head. The clothes that his other self used, of such a pristine white with shimmering blue details, the care to avoid directly touching him, the warning about how Sephiroth shouldn’t be allowed any near that mysteriously damaged summon materia, those strange words… If he hadn’t that one physical proof of that unexpected meeting, Cloud would have believed it to be a dream.

There was certainly something about his masked self’s words that suggested he should keep an eye on the man. And perhaps, due to circumstances, they had started that whole thing with the wrong foot.

“I mean, you do have a point. But if you’re going to be around we need to move on from what happened. Or we’ll be recalling stuff and… Gaia, we already have enough guilt to deal with. If we get any more, we’ll be in despair. So… uhm…” Cloud trailed off.

“No longer bringing up the past like that?” Sephiroth added.

“Yeah. Not bringing up the past out of nowhere, for now, at least.”

That was a deal he could agree with, especially for the sake of finding out what it was meant by needing to protect Cloud. Maybe it would really prevent the vision that was shown to him of the end of the Planet like he thought, and then nobody would need to die like the people he saw in those images. Perhaps.

“Deal.”

And with that, once again, a little something changed.


	2. The Castle Of Clouds In A World Of Ruin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In another universe, there was a strong love. Time, however, wasn't so much kind in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This episode of Gears of Time is especially brought to you by "we have references even in the title!" (For the record, I never ever played FFVI, but with time and other games I picked up too many things from it, hah. Anyway, there was a section of FFVI going by the name of "World of Ruin".) Which maybe requires the notes to be split for the sake of spoilers, I think.
> 
> In any case, there sure is a small nod to [DrNeverland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrNeverland/pseuds/DrNeverland)'s ["Of Things That May Be Only" series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/289628), which is an amazing series (and one of my all time favorites) by a lovely author. (<3) Seriously, go give it a read if you haven't already!
> 
> Also, this chapter relies on the hint that FFX might have been a really distant prequel to FFVII, which is an idea that I'm quite fond of.
> 
> And ah, yeah, this particular chapter might have some suicide implications. It's truly brief, but I thought a warning is definitely needed, same for a bit of this in which a Cloud's or another Cloud's age isn't really noted at all and left up to interpretation. There might even be a mention of an abusive relationship at one point? With that being the case, I think I'm going up with the rating and walking into the red territory of 'M'. Just for safety!
> 
> Last but no least, usual attempts at humor that may or may not sound a little crack-ish. Angst maybe? Hm.

In times so distant now, there was a planet called Gaia. Not much was known about when or how humanity developed there, but at some point a calamity fallen from the skies left so big of an injury that even after thousands of years the Planet tried to heal it. In doing so, a whole continent became colder, with its environment adapting around not only the freezing temperatures but also the newly formed crater that was resulting of it. A different group of people, the Cetra, (who were also known as the Ancients) fought to seal the aforementioned calamity but had their numbers considerably reduced in the process.

At some point, the Shinra family started a business involving mako energy. The source of such energy was none other than the Planet’s own life force and, as such, draining it was dangerous in the long run to all life forms existing. But they had enough power to eventually take over Gaia with their reactors and that move wasn’t widely opposed by most at first.

With time, Shinra’s greed for power grew stronger and, searching for huge amounts of mako energy, they learned about the Cetra and the Promised Land; a place where it was said endless sources of mako existed.

Through grim truths unveiled and the kind of science which should be forbidden, the one who was thought to be the perfect warrior was born. They named him Sephiroth. He was soon raised and groomed to be a weapon of destruction to enforce world domination under the company’s rule and never knew a place he could call home — not with warmth added to that word, at least.

But in the same times so distant now — the times when Sephiroth lived — under the same sky a young man lived as well, albeit some years younger. A young, blond man who had a hometown but couldn’t call it a _home_ without thinking about how even the adults of that place were likely to blame him for every little thing that went wrong in his presence. It didn’t help much that his name brought bad omens to those who lived there, for Cloud Strife sounded like the indication of really bad weather coming.

The important point to be made about it was that Cloud Strife, even so far away in every possible sense, admired Sephiroth as an idol, just like the universe fated him to. Those feelings led him to leave behind a misty home by the foot of a mountain that brought him no emotional or physical warmth to try to join the program his hero was part of, SOLDIER, in hopes of fighting alongside him one day. Maybe also to return to that place as someone people didn’t have a reason to look down on.

However, his story was one of (like his name implied) strife, so such a dream was complicated to attain. And yet, by what seemed to be a miracle, he met someone who was willing to introduce him to Sephiroth. By some other miraculous occurrence, it turned out that a General could be interested in being friends with an infantryman like him. He thought he had used all of his luck for a lifetime, only to be surprised once more by the simple fact that the man looked at him like a bird in a cage longing to fly along an outsider peer; like he was his moon and stars, and everything that ever mattered in the universe.

Although it sounded like heavy exaggeration, the most important truth of that particular world was that Cloud Strife existed at the same time as Sephiroth and the two of them loved each other more than anything else in the Planet.

Maybe because of that simple yet complicated thing, Cloud was able to overcome everything that happened in his journey — from watching his beloved burn his hometown and kill nearly everyone in it, to the death of some friends and of so many strangers due to Shinra trying to eliminate him and his group back in Midgar, to the Meteor which almost destroyed Gaia, to having to witness the man he loved carry on such a malicious plan and facing said man time after time again — and accept Sephiroth back once he returned to his senses.

And there was something utterly pleasant about being the lover of a god, that much he had to admit. Especially considering how his journey began because he wanted to be someone who people wouldn’t point at and call worthless or a nobody.

Even if once each year during spring, for the first three years, he left on a pilgrimage as an oracle of Sephiroth and as such had to be away from his feathered companion, Cloud was all smiles and happiness personified. His travels would eventually be over anyway, and soon he would return home; to the castle of clouds near the core of the Planet, to his god, friend, lover and master who never really required Cloud to kneel down or bow to him, even if the oracle did so sometimes anyway.

Once a year, he would see his former comrades and they’d be happy that he seemed so radiant each time they saw him. All the other times he’d be home and more than willing to serve and be rewarded for it. It was almost ironic to think that a certain time in the past, that kind of dynamic seemed terrifying to him.

But then, whenever he could rest on Sephiroth’s pristine wings, Cloud could only think about how full of joy and gratitude he felt that in the end, things turned out to be just like that.

* * *

In the beginning, when the Ancients still lived in large numbers, incredibly powerful beings lived among mortals. At the cost of an offering, they made people’s lives brighter and easier by helping as they could. With the aid of those they called gods and the Cetra, the land prospered and as such, it was an age of light for the Planet.

However, when the gift from the skies that brought nothing but despair arrived, most of those beings sealed their live energy away within materia to escape that uncertain and cruel fate, changing their existence forever.

People could still call out to them for help, albeit by making a different offering. But after Jenova, and with the Cetra’s demise, that age of light in which people praised, sang and danced for their gods came to an unfortunate end.

* * *

At one point during the third year, the seraph unveiled to him that the world was coming to an end.

It wasn’t due to lack of care or due to someone draining the Planet’s life force like Shinra had been doing before, but rather due to the combination of the occurrences leading up to that point in time.

(The Northern Crater constantly trying to heal itself, the misuse of mako by Shinra, Sephiroth falling in the Lifestream as someone who carried Jenova’s influence, the energy that was gathered to activate and empower Holy, the stress left from Meteorfall and the list went on and on, expanding into minor occurrences that only collaborated for the heavy consequences in the end.)

That day, Sephiroth let him watch through a vision what would happen at the world’s end. All these people he had helped in his travels fallen and rotting, some of them burning in the flames that consumed everything. A dark sky of no moon, stars or anything above, and in the very center of everything, Gaia’s last resort to begin anew. _Omega_. And with it the sight of an old friend, falling from the skies before the giant Weapon after an uncontrolled Chaos living inside of him played his part in all of it.

It was upsetting to see that world of ruin, mainly due to the fact he learned that not even Minerva could do something to stop such a thing and a little due to the time constraints of such an event, for they had one year, maybe two left.

He wept against Sephiroth’s chest and trembled for what all of that meant; for how much that whole concept was utterly terrifying. And even more he cried when his beloved offered to him an option in an attempt to escape that fate.

* * *

The Safer Sephiroth summon materia could be used to cast two different spells: Heartless Angel, which left the target weak enough to be easily immobilized — or even killed — and Gears of Time, which allowed the caster to travel through time with variable results. It took more effort for one to master it than any other materia he came across in his journeys around the Planet and didn’t produce any additional copies upon having its potential fully unlocked, nor could extra versions be acquired by mastering other pieces of materia. It was unique in that aspect; meant for only one person in the entire world to have.

It was also a singularity, in regards of who could handle it. After all, when it came to a materia that allowed such a thing as traveling through time, one had to take in mind the (usual) impossibility of existing twice in an universe.

Cloud didn’t know and hence feared what could come out of a Sephiroth, in another world, touching that particular piece of materia. He knew only the sorrow of that loss and the heavy weight of something considerably smaller in comparison to the Buster Sword.

* * *

The first time he summoned, it hurt.

Not because it was a long time until he did so; his months before that moment spent in mourning. Or due to the disregard coming from the summoned Sephiroth, with icy eyes that seemed to stare through him but never _at_ him. Definitely not because of the cold winds that came with it, biting into the exposed parts of his skin that his travel robes couldn’t cover — winds that, by the way, reminded him of both Nibelheim and the northern continent — or the memories which came with said outfit.

( _“I’ve thought of a wonderful present for you,” Sephiroth said, handing him robes of a pure white with blue starry patterns decorating the edges of it “since outside can be cold and the sunlight can be harsh sometimes. It’s simple but… I hope it keeps you safe, dearest.”_ )

It _did_ hurt emotionally but that wasn’t the only pain to come with it, for it felt like the air was being knocked out of his lungs and his body pierced by a Masamune that wasn’t there, all at once.

And when Sephiroth caught him — wrapping an arm around his body, pulling him to sit on the cloud-like formation below the his waist and allowing all of those wings to embrace them — Cloud no longer felt the cold winds, only the sensation of physical warmth before his mind slipped away.

* * *

In another universe, a young Cloud Strife woke up on the day he was supposed to be leaving to Midgar. Unlike a normal occurrence of this event, however, this boy was more than well aware of what was likely to happen in the future; Shinra would keep up their mako related business until Meteorfall, along with two members of SOLDIER going rogue which would somewhat contribute to not only destruction but to Sephiroth losing his mind as well. Zack would then die after trying to keep him safe, in the months following their escape from Shinra Mansion’s laboratory, and the events leading up to Sephiroth taking up on a godly form would take place.

That he had a chance, even if little, to change all of that, filled him with hope and a strong sense of determination.

The only problem was how sick he felt at the moment, enough that as soon as he was aware enough, he did nothing but dash for the bathroom. The noises he made were concerning and soon drew attention.

“Nebel, are you alright?”

His mother! She was alive! If only he wasn’t so busy throwing up, Cloud would’ve felt happier about that simple fact that felt so foreign to him at the moment. For so long he lived without her presence and with all the happiness he had in another way with his friends and Sephiroth, he sort of forgot how it felt to have a mother who cared for him, still around and well.

“I… I’m fine, ma!”

“You sound like a wounded zuu, Cloud!”

And then, maybe he sounded like a wounded zuu laughing, if the creatures were capable of laughter, of course. But it still didn’t shake away his mother’s concern.

“You sure you wanna leave today?” She said, appearing by the door “Hel, you look like you’re gonna faint out there.”

“I’ll be fin—” He tried to say, only to grip the toilet’s edges harder and resume his moment of sickness. Ah yes, this was far from being fine, wasn’t it? It was strange, he couldn’t recall waking up so sick that day.

“That’s it. You’re not leaving this house today. I’m not sending my son out there on a suicide mission.”

And the worst of it was that there was no changing the mind of Claudia Strife. But at the same time it wasn’t as if something would immediately happen to the world — or to Sephiroth — just because he would stay another week in Nibelheim, right?

Perhaps, then, he could start to change history starting with this small town in the mountains.

* * *

It took him a while, but as soon as he realized it, Cloud wished that he could’ve been warned in any way that traveling through time could leave him extremely motion sick.

* * *

The following day, Tifa mocked him for “chickening out of that plan to become a hero”, in her own words. It was alright. It wasn’t as if they’d been the best of the friends back in the day, anyway. She had her own group of friends he wasn’t interested in taking part of (again), not because he thought of himself as superior to them like the first time around, even if he had lived an young adult’s life before. He was simply not interested in bonding with those who, along with the adults, mocked and blamed him for every single thing that went wrong.

Besides, he had something he wanted to do.

Making sure his summon materia was safe in his pocket and picking up a backpack with a few things — some snacks, a slingshot, a poster of Sephiroth and something to treat any possible injuries — Cloud made his way to the building everyone in that town avoided and feared.

The Shinra Manor, because Vincent taking a very long nap wouldn’t help any of them save the Planet (or to at least extend its life to the maximum that was possible).

The problem was just to convince the man to get out of there and do something. Last time he only did because of the prospect of finding Hojo, but this time around Cloud didn’t have a party and wasn’t on a journey after Sephiroth that involved finding the scientist, even if it was an important matter and absolutely on his mental list of things that had to be done.

(And just as he thought, the most his current choice of weapon could do was serve as a means of distracting the sahagins and dorky faces. But that was just enough. The ones he couldn’t distract, he could make too weak to move, anyway.)

It was even bigger of a problem when said man wasn’t cooperating much with him, perhaps not at all.

“A child…?” He couldn’t exactly blame Vincent when he looked so young in his fourteen years old body, could he? “This isn’t your place to be. You must leave.”

“Wait! Wait!” Cloud almost shouted before his old friend made a stranger could close the coffin lid again “I know about Sephiroth and Hojo!”

Maybe those were the only words he needed to get Vincent’s cooperation and curiosity.

“Then you, too, might be a bearer of a sin just by knowing those names.” He said, and added before Cloud could think that coffin lid was going to be closed again “Now tell me how and what you know of them.”

* * *

The only reason why Vincent wasn’t skeptical of the boy’s claims was how terrifyingly accurate sounding they were. He knew more he should, more than that old manor could tell in its documents and old notes, more than a fourteen year old who had no part in that incident should know. Of his beloved lady and where she was at the moment, equally troubled by the sins of that particular event.

_“The creature they used for the experiments, Jenova, is locked away in the reactor. If Sephiroth ever comes here, he’ll be mentally unstable and from then it’ll just get worse, especially if he goes up there.” They paused just so Vincent could shoot a sahagin before it could get near them “We need to destroy her.”_

_“I’ll do it. You’re too young and there are dragons and wolves up there.”_

_“You know, you could’ve been a good father.”_

The boy claimed Vincent was Sephiroth’s father. The idea didn’t seem strange now that he thought of it and had seem the man in that poster. The eye color and hair didn’t match either his or Lucrecia’s, but the shape of that face, the nose, the lips… even the eyebrows… there was nothing in there even remotely similar to Hojo.

But that the son of his beloved, that could also be his, grew up the way he did… that was yet another sin to add to his personal list.

That afternoon, they busied themselves with going through the records in the manor’s library, setting the misleading and dangerous ones in a large box to burn later. There were also recordings of Lucrecia that confirmed some of the claims Cloud had made.

That boy, who claimed he’d come from a future that turned grim, whose eyes seemed sad and a little distant whenever he mentioned Sephiroth in any way. He behaved more like an adult than a child — or rather, a teenager, like he had been corrected about more than once — and had a touch of leadership to him.

Upon asked about that, Cloud only said that “Once, in a different life, we were in a team together and everyone simply trusted me to lead them. It was… kinda insane if you ask me. We were a group of misfits and they chose the one with most issues to guide them.”

“I wouldn’t choose myself as a leader, if that’s what you’ll imply next.”

The blond laughed at that “I think you’d make a fine one.”

* * *

When it was finally the time to head to Midgar, Cloud took his motion sickness medicine and made his way out of that town proud, even if nobody except his mother came to greet him before the travel. By then, Vincent had long left Nibelheim and Jenova was destroyed.

He was hoping to see Zack and Aerith, to bask in the relief that both of them were safe and sound for the time being. _And oh, Sephiroth_. He knew that the man in this version of the universe wasn’t _his_ Sephiroth, and to make matters worse, he wasn’t old enough, himself. At least not physically. If someone was to find out about the twenty years old General going after a definitely-not-legal infantryman, things would get ugly really fast. Cloud didn’t want that, for sure.

But yet, he wanted to at least make sure Sephiroth would find some source of happiness and actual truths about the past instead of having him lose his mind and go on and on about dominating the world or flying through the cosmos.

* * *

In that world, in which — thanks to Vincent being awake at a time he wasn't supposed to — things were starting to look bright, Cloud met Aerith, who tended to her flowers with the same kindness she had for people, and Zack, who was (usually) so cheerful on the outside and had his way of drawing people in.

However, he never met the Sephiroth of that Gaia.

The very day he put his feet in Midgar was the day all the news were announcing that, the day before, Sephiroth was found dead in his apartment. Nobody had broke in to murder him and there was a note, stating how the General no longer felt any joy in working for the company and how he was “avoiding being a handful by deserting and having the army be mobilized”.

It was an odd concept, mourning someone who one had never met. But all the different sorts of admiration he had for Sephiroth in another world walked over that strangeness and had him in tears, all alone in the room he was staying in; lamenting everything that was lost with that.

There was no clear correlation between those two events; of him arriving late and Sephiroth choosing to take away his own life. That only made things stranger and had him wondering if the people he heard saying that a bird flapping its wings in one side of the world could cause a tornado on the other side were correct, after all.

Later that day, he walked into a café and bumped into Zack. Just a quick meeting of two strangers, basically. He intentionally walked into Aerith’s church seeking some kind of solace, to find her tending to her flowers just the way it should be.

That world could still be saved, at a cost: Sephiroth wouldn’t exist in it any longer. Meaning that all Sephiroth related events after that were immediately cancelled. Nibelheim wouldn’t burn. Zack would, hopefully, live. Meteor wouldn’t happen. Holy wouldn’t need to happen, either. Aerith would live. A great part of Midgar wouldn’t be damaged by that upcoming destructive magic coming from the skies. Many people wouldn’t have to worry about a tragedy coming to pass.

Perhaps he had become selfish with the years and had to apologize for being such a nuisance as well, but if Cloud would try to save the world and could travel until he was able to find a favorable spot in time to do so, that meant saving everyone who was important to him, in a way or another. Let them live their lives happily.

And that being the case, he thought it wouldn’t be so bad to try again.

* * *

At some point, Cloud lost count of how many times he had gone through that process. He summoned, went to some point in time and tried to do everything he could. Each time, one of them would die. Aerith. Sephiroth. Zack. In rare occasions, it was someone else but it didn’t mean it hurt any less.

In an alternate universe, Cloud had to kill Sephiroth at the end of his journey. It wasn’t permanent and each time, the silver haired warrior returned a little more like Jenova and a little less like himself. They were fated to battle each other until the last of the days, while the world collapsed around them. He found that reality to be unbearable.

In a different lifetime, it worked out really well for a while. Shinra went bankrupt and the reactors were boycotted. However, the Sephiroth of that time went from a very sweet person to someone who only kept him around as a pet of sorts; too obsessive to let go yet not entirely loyal at times. Alone on their bed one night, the time traveler decided he no longer knew this man in particular.

A hundred other times, for many different reasons, Cloud never met him. He quickly figured out that those were the alternate realities in which Zack and Aerith were likely to remain alive the most. But in one in particular, Tifa died during the accident that usually would put her in a coma as a child, Vincent slept forever in that coffin of his and somehow, the flower girl, the puppy-eyed hero and the one Cloud fell in love with all died in the same accident, somehow. He met an auburn haired man who took interest in him and the two of them, along with a dark haired companion, spent their days together in harmony while Cloud treasured what he told the others to be his “little lucky charm materia” and considered whether or not it was right to travel once again after so many tragedies.

Hearing that Nibelheim went down with an air strike and that his mother had been there made him leave that timeline as soon as he could. His heart was truly somewhere else, anyway, no matter how much he cherished those days he spent with Genesis and Angeal.

In some universes, he didn’t take the place of the Cloud existing in them. Those scared him the most because for every action he made, he had to take care not to directly mess up with his other self’s life and memories. He usually went by another name in these occasions, calling himself Fenrir and assuming the best disguise he could. More than once, he almost walked up on some version of him riding the General in an office chair. His lover who a long time ago sealed himself within materia was right: the back of his head could look like a chocobo’s butt if one looked with enough attention to make the association. Cloud thought it was funny.

(More than once he wanted to join them in their activities, but his fear of what could happen if two versions of him interacted like that was much, much bigger than such a desire.)

“Paradoxes,” he explained quietly to the materia in his gloved hand, which glowed softly in response to another Sephiroth’s proximity “I think the world would probably collapse.”

Once, he saved Sephiroth at the very end. But doing so threw the man in a coma by mako poisoning and nothing ever on the Planet could bring him back.

There was the time when he traveled to the future instead, only to have the silver haired man (as a former enemy) tell him about two visions of the future Aerith apparently offered him; in one they fought one another forever, in the other they had a family with a fallen friend reborn as their son. Cloud didn’t want fate to control him, even if that was a very lovely scenario which sounded strangely familiar for some reason, like a tale from a certain festivity.

He was once a chocobo, due to destiny being cruel to him. Someone in black leather clothing with hair as platinum as the moonlight tried to steal his summon materia from him, prompting him to attack. The Sephiroth of that universe was, then, terrified of chocobos for life.

Traveling took him even further back in time than he'd hoped for, and to a place he didn’t know, in a particular occasion. He met a woman with brown hair and eyes of different colors who claimed to be on a journey with her friends to defeat something, but couldn't stay there to help. After all, his very presence there could’ve changed something very important in that story, he assumed.

But no matter how far he went, he always returned to the same castle of clouds he left behind in the first place. Well, one couldn’t exactly call it the same anymore after his Gaia collapsed. It had become a paradox; it existed at the same time it shouldn’t, sealed away within nowhere and without any sort of exit other than his escape through time.

It hurt, now fully in the emotional sense of the word, to keep going on and on to achieve results he didn’t want in the end; results he couldn't change. His reflection on the surface of that red materia looked exhausted from going through such a process, so many times. Save Sephiroth, lose the world or someone else important to him. Save the world, definitely lose Sephiroth or someone precious. However, in hopes that he could get the right timeline and while that materia was with him, he carried on with the task even if it made it hard for him to breathe.

* * *

“I miss you and your ridiculous amount of fluffy wings.” He said to that materia one day, as it was the only thing keeping him company; the last bit of Sephiroth he had left other than a castle of clouds and memories. “It’s… rather lonely, sitting on clouds without you. I feel awful.”

Even more so when that conversation was a monologue instead. It made him wish that there was a way to travel back in time in that particular timeline, just to enjoy what he didn’t have now, even if it would be just for a little while; to lie down on those wings and share little conversations about small things, or to have the amusing sight of a large white hound coming home with groceries.

Oh, how he missed _everything_.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, realizing he’d gotten a little emotional thinking about such things “it’s just that… if I can save the world from its fate i-it means I have to lose something precious to me…” Cloud sighed “I don’t think I’m quite ready to do this… even after everything… even if you warned me it’d be better to let go of my feelings and just do what I have to… maybe I’m still too much stubborn and a little selfish…”

He thought back on the woman he met once, the one from far back into the past. Cloud had told her that he was on a difficult journey as well. She told him that maybe it helped if he practiced smiling whenever he felt upset, but he found no energy to do so at the time. In fact, he found no energy to so even now.

Perhaps if he stayed at this place made of clouds for far too long, he’d disappear. Then, maybe… no, that was being too hopeful about such a thing. With the place he was at belonging to nowhere, that meant disappearing wouldn’t result in him meeting his Sephiroth again or honoring the man’s last wishes before sealing himself away.

Another travel, then. Maybe after so many of those, that one could be the charm.

* * *

Traveling that time around left Cloud more hopeless than anything.

Because yes, of course, he had achieved an unwanted result yet again, in Nibelheim of all places. But that wasn’t what took his hope away so suddenly; rather the crack on his precious materia’s surface. The blond feared the meaning of it while not understanding why something like that happened or how it did, at all. He had never seen a damaged materia before, not even once in his whole life; he didn’t even know that it could happen.

But if that continued, he was sure that the materia wouldn’t last. It already looked duller than it should be, so maybe it’d be rendered unusable if it cracked further.

It filled him with such fear that he remained right where he was, in his lonely cloudy home, and refrained from traveling until he could think of something to do about the situation.

* * *

Perhaps, all that time Sephiroth had been right about him needing to let go to achieve something. He had been traveling through too many timelines and dragging the pain of them all along with him. Maybe his unwillingness to let it go had been making things difficult for himself and putting stress on the magic he cast each time. Ah yes, even more guilt to deal with, the thought that maybe his summon materia cracking had been his own fault all along.

But he wouldn’t fall into despair just yet.

Cloud gently kissed the red materia he carried with him before covering his face with a plain, white mask. He didn’t need to, at least not to conceal his identity anyway as his voice would give that much away easily. But he didn’t want to let his sorrow show in face of an already so odd and probably alarming meeting.

And without hesitating much longer, he walked into the manor of clouds before him, so much smaller than the castle he left behind.

Inside, the sight which greeted him filled him with a distant nostalgia. It felt as if he hadn’t traveled at all, but instead come home to find Sephiroth resting on the cloudy ground, probably communing with the Planet. Cloud knew better than to interrupt him, especially when he didn’t belong to this time.

The strangest thing to him was to see the seraph without a companion along him, especially when he felt he hadn’t assumed the place of the Cloud in this version of Gaia. His version in that world had to be there somewhere, however, for Sephiroth wouldn’t have a building of clouds if he had been there by himself. And thankfully, a mansion had way less rooms than a castle, so it wasn’t that much difficult to find the other self he sought in the end.

It wasn’t surprising that upon seeing such a figure, the other Cloud would be alarmed. He didn’t pay much mind to his other self’s fright but was hesitant to approach due to that reaction. The young man on that bed of clouds looked troubled and approaching so suddenly couldn’t be a good idea in the end.

(He didn’t do well with abrupt occurrences after all, no matter how many different timelines one observed.)

Cloud held out his gloved hand, offering the materia to the other and becoming insistent due to the apparent confusion he was met with. It was alarming to everyone involved, especially regarding the possibility of contact, from which Cloud flinched away.

“Listen,” He said, trying not to let his emotions get the best of him “you’re going to save him… so he doesn’t end up like this.” He pointed at the red materia, making the other one avert his gaze to look at it. There was still confusion lying in there.

“Who?”

“You will know when it’s time.” He informed his unaware self “Just… use your time well, alright? And don’t lose yourself. It’s to navigate back once you move forward… well, that’s backwards for me.”

He realized from the expression he got from the other one that what he said probably created more doubts than those that existed already. But offering every answer would mean interfering too much and the results could be troublesome. Besides, he was running out of time already.

“Oh yeah, that’s right. It won’t make sense for you now. Just remember this, please. And don’t let Sephiroth come near this.” He pointed at the materia again and moved to leave. “Now,” a hilarious thought from so long ago occurred to him, a memory from times he had lost and that he wished he could have again “I’m gonna mosey.”

Cloud knew that once he left, he’d be completely alone in his own building of clouds with no way out ever again. He didn’t know what would be of himself then, fated to exist in a world that no longer existed itself. Maybe he could let himself fall into a very deep slumber. Passing the materia forward to start a new cycle of traveling with a new traveler and no longer having his Gaia meant he lacked a purpose, anyway.

In any case, he didn’t linger there for long enough to notice the other one uselessly trying to follow him.

* * *

Aboard the Highwind, Cloud rolled a certain piece of materia between his fingers, wondering about it while watching the clouds pass by the airship in its flight. For the moment, he hadn’t told anyone about it, especially Sephiroth. He had been warned not to allow the man to be near it, after all, and it had been a warning given by himself, nonetheless.

But oh, he had multiple theories about that.

One of them was that this summon materia had been the means for that other, masked Cloud to reach him in his own time. That whole thing with handing a materia then saying to use his “time well and not lose yourself” seemed suspicious. Perhaps by introducing an object of a different time in another one, something could be prevented or resolved.

The other was that something bad was going to pass to someone and, by summoning, he could avoid it, prevent whoever was that to become “cracked” like that materia was.

However, the most curious one was that maybe, in a different world, that summon materia had been Sephiroth. It wasn’t impossible given the nature of the man now and the way how it was told that a long time ago the gods joined the Planet, leaving powerful red materia pieces behind. Maybe, he was meant to prevent that from happening in his time for whatever reason.

But in the end, it all felt like fate was trying to get a hold of him just like one controls a puppet. The feeling of it was annoying. Cloud didn’t like thinking about it too much. It reminded him of other things he also disliked, like the time when Sephiroth played with his mind and tried to control him like a toy.

He really shouldn’t think about that. Things had changed and even if he had such terrible memories of worst times, it wasn’t like that anymore. It was awkward and he was still trying to get used to having a former enemy wandering around, but the times during which a Jenova-influenced Sephiroth messed up with him in that way were long behind.

“You have a really bad habit of isolating yourself,” said that voice behind him, pulling Cloud away from his thoughts and prompting him to immediately shove that materia inside his pocket “first in the Northern Crater, now here.”

“I needed some air, that’s all.” He explained “Did you scare off the crew or something or…?”

“On the contrary, they wanted to give me more head pats.” Sephiroth _giggled_ , which Cloud decided was a really rare thing to hear. “They told me I’m a ‘really good boy’.” The taller man seemed more than simply amused by that for some weird reason, while taking a few steps to stand beside him.

“You were wandering around as a dog again? Even if Cid told us the crew knew about you being aboard and that you didn’t need to do that!”

“The head pats are better than the looks they give.” He simply answered and let silence fall between the two of them for a little while “Those people look at me like I’m going to break down and murder them and I know exactly _why_ , but… they also look at me, as a dog, and think I’m adorable and must receive head pats. I could do some serious damage with a bite if I really wanted to but I don’t see anyone considering that. It’s just… all this affection… It’s almost overwhelming…” Sephiroth sighed and stared at the passing clouds, a little distracted by everything to notice his former enemy turning to him and approaching a little.

Cloud gave him a head pat. It definitely caught his attention.

“Here, have one more.” He almost regretted doing that because of the softness of Sephiroth’s hair. It made him wonder if it had anything to do with Sephiroth’s current nature or if it had been always like so. He also wanted to mess around with it some more, but refrained from doing so due to the awkwardness of the situation. “Give yourself some time, alright? Breathe. I think this is complicated for everyone right now.”

Sephiroth just nodded. There was… something about this closeness he didn’t understand quite well, but that felt good; as if he was being officially welcomed into a party of misfits going on a messy quest like he knew Cloud’s group of friends was. It wouldn’t surprise him at all if that was it, even if he knew it wasn’t the case. He was just another misfit, after all, the only difference being that he had been involved in something that could have severely harmed Gaia if that plan had worked out.

“Well, I’m going back inside.” Cloud turned to leave, but not before giving him a sly smile “You coming… _Fenrir_?”

“You still haven't told me where you got that name from.”

“Old Nibelan tale. Come inside and I can tell you.”

It was almost as if Cloud knew that such a thing could get the best out of his curiosity; the tales of the old. He didn’t care if he could somehow end up learning about those by himself. Listening to them being told by others brought some memories of a fatherly figure from long ago.

 _Oh, Professor Gast_. Sephiroth hoped that the man was in peace now; in the Promised Land that attracted the greed of so many people through time.

That day, he learned of the enormous wolf which legends told to be fated to devour one of the most important gods on the inevitable day of the world’s end, only to be killed by that god’s son in turn; a tale from the days when the people believed the world would be engulfed by powerful waters to be born anew, with fertile lands ready to provide for those who could survive the event.

It made him think back on what he had become due to his complicated involvement with Jenova. A monster fated to leave scars on the world, only to be detained by said world’s “chosen one”. Unlike the wolf of that tale, something had changed for him on the very last minute that made his destiny go from that of destroyer trying to enforce some kind of world domination to the one of a protector with a mission to apparently keep the Planet’s _Champion_ safe.

There still remained the question of what required such protection, however. Sephiroth could only wait and hope for the answer to be revealed soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And more little references and other notes:
> 
> \- The thing with summons being creatures that sealed themselves away within materia comes from [this bit of unused text.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vd3T8YL-070) (Boy, I do love unused stuff in the OG so much <3)
> 
> \- Cloud's outfit of white robes with blue starry patterns on the edges (also his orange-ish gloves as mentioned in last chapter) is a nod to the Time Mage and White Mage jobs from games with job systems
> 
> \- "Nebel" is a German word for fog/mist/haze (and synonyms, all similar to cloud) and stellar nebula
> 
> \- There's a huge reference to ["I'm sorry I'm a handful"](https://67.media.tumblr.com/665f6576eede4abc83ae77e7d004280a/tumblr_o12v7q4Z6F1rsu0zzo1_500.jpg) of which I can't find a source for
> 
> And last but no least, yes, Safer Seph/Cloud are somehow meant to be a parallel to Sephiroth/puppet!Cloud in a sense


	3. Of The Effects Of Wing Flaps And The House Of Clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time goes by fast and the boys head back to some concerning places, for business. Unexpected things come to pass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to whoever gets that title.
> 
> Also, my titles seem to be get longer as this continues, wow. What a mouthful.
> 
> I also wanted to update a while after FFVII's anniversary, but then writer's block kinda happened. After that FF Tactics also happened — a lot and I loved that game. More writer's block! Life! Distractions! "Did I do this thing before in the plot?", "why are children hard to write?" and more things. But anyway, here we are. And in the end, this got unexpectedly longer than usual.
> 
> I hope it's enjoyable! And thanks to those of you who are sticking by and being really patient while waiting for updates ٩(˘◡˘ )

“M-move!” Cloud stuttered “You’re… ah… t-too heavy…”

“Tell me to… to move, again… and I’ll shove Masamune into you…” was the groaned response he got from Sephiroth.

To say the least, in their current position it was difficult to move with ease. He had ended up over Cloud, as they rolled in their fall, in the weirdest possible angle and had hurt himself at some point of the entire process. Trying to free his former enemy of his own weight pinning him down only caused another groan to escape him, his back aching with the movement and forcing him down again. Something was wrong.

“So… you’re showing y-your claws.... ah, at last?!” Cloud pushed, trying to move Sephiroth away by himself but only managing to draw a pained sound out of him instead.

“Oh… shut up.” Even the smallest of the movements brought him intense pain. He let himself stay in that position, the fact that him being draped all over Cloud bothered his former enemy so much be damned. “My b-back… it hurts...” From all he knew of it, he could very well be dying. The Planet allowed him the power of a god, the job of a Weapon and yet, like the many powerful beings who lived a similar existence before him, if something were to happen to him that could kill him, it certainly would.

That Cloud moved a little to be able to look at the source of the problem and gasped in fright like that, looking concerned after his initial shock, only managed to increase that concern that the end would come sooner than he thought.

* * *

“Don’t move!” The little girl almost shouted at him. Sephiroth remained exactly where he was, with an inquisitive look on his face. “It’s up there.”

“What?” He finally asked.

“A butterfly.”

“Oh.”

He had made a big mistake in telling Marlene the tale he heard from Professor Gast once, before the man disappeared from his life; that a butterfly flapping its wings on one side of the world could potentially cause a disaster to happen on the other side. That the absence of said butterfly doing that could also lead to a disaster, that such a little detail could change everything. It fascinated him due to his undying curiosity but it also terrified him, even if he knew it was a simple tale to illustrate that certain things were better when thought about properly. He held butterflies in his mind as a sign of bad luck and butterflies in his stomach as a warning of a weakness that others could exploit — the latter coming from Hojo beating that into his mind, of course.

Sephiroth was expected to be a tactician, a General for their army and definitely not expected to have a weak point such as that… or to tell young girls bedtime stories.

Well, not his fault that she refused to hear Cloud’s and Tifa’s stories when she found out he could just change into whatever living being from said story she wanted to see and was fascinated by that, after getting used to him being around. Not his fault either that Barret had gone to Corel for a while to seek non-mako forms of energy after making sure that Sephiroth wasn’t indeed a menace to his daughter. (Cloud informed him later that a similar occurrence happened when he had sort of a date with Barret in the Gold Saucer. Sephiroth couldn’t really imagine the blond having a date with the other man. It was a match that felt… somewhat off. It didn’t sit right with him and gave him a weird feeling he couldn’t truly pin down.)

Maybe it was just like the tale and he deliberately choosing to tell such a story made something change in the universe leading up to that moment. A moment during which he had a bright blue butterfly on his shoulder and was told not to move so it couldn’t get to fly away in fright, possibly causing a disaster somewhere else and cursing all of them.

He really dreaded butterflies.

But this little girl liked him as some sort of “weird uncle” and he was expecting not to let her down, so he waited until that bug was done sitting on his shoulder, hoping it didn’t fly into his face or something.

It thankfully left in peace afterwards, without causing any harm to anyone. Marlene gazed at him in awe before celebrating, then asking him if he could turn into a butterfly for a while just so they could try to trick Tifa and also impress everyone else.

 _Why are children like this?_ He wondered as he transformed to please that little girl in particular.

Cloud, as it turned out, could tell it was him anyway, even like that. Black and mako green wings with silver details in the pattern were an obvious giveaway, but Sephiroth couldn’t think of anything else and Cloud had become a specialist in the art of identifying him in the months that had passed, no matter what form he assumed. His former nemesis still put up an act to look as if he was impressed by Marlene finding such a friendly butterfly; even though part of it was but genuine happiness.

There was something about the way Cloud smiled those days that was softer compared to the past. He still looked worried or upset sometimes, especially whenever he thought Sephiroth wasn’t looking. But it was almost as if he had started to move on from the trauma that haunted him at long last.

Sephiroth thought it to be an endearing sight, for some unknown reason.

* * *

In the many months that followed; after his crowning as one chosen by the Planet, after the mission of protecting Gaia’s Champion had been bestowed upon him, Sephiroth had found work in many places. Tifa’s new bar, Reeve’s World Regenesis Organization, whatever volunteer jobs he could find in his free time, anything that was in his power that he could do to help others, — which even included serving as a therapy dog for hospitalized children; which, in a way, was therapeutic for him as well — while still having the time to keep an eye on Cloud.

He still couldn’t understand what Cloud needed to be protected from that could require a divine intervention such as the one of the Planet assigning him as a guardian.

Cloud had found a job of his own as well. He and Cid put together a motorcycle and he took on delivery, working under no boss other than himself. For a while it made the former General wonder about it; whether or not the Planet wanted him to keep Cloud from crashing that thing on the road, even if he remained within Midgar borders while working.

As it turned out, Sephiroth had no reason to worry for Cloud’s safety while driving.

However, he still had no answer to his undying question and Gaia wasn’t willing to share it with him.

Meanwhile, said Cloud kept the summon materia he received a secret from everybody. He kept it constantly on his person if he went out, not equipped on anything he was using but safe in a way he couldn’t lose it; couldn’t drop it somewhere without noticing. Back to his room on the back of Tifa’s bar, he kept it so well hidden that one couldn’t find it even if they turned his room upside down.

He really came to fear that materia with time, along with its many implications.

In his heart, Cloud felt it wasn’t the time to use it, to summon whatever being used the orb as a device to be called upon the land of the mortals. He didn’t even know if he could, given the state of what was given to him. And yet, he feared for when he’d have to actually use it; when he'd know its true purpose and _what_ it summoned.

It almost felt as if he was dancing around the subject of it, like an obedient child keeping a box of candy and holding off the strong temptation of opening it, of tasting the sweetness of it.

Everything could be so simple. Attempt to summon, find out what it did. Don’t summon, but take it to Cosmo Canyon, ask for the elders’ opinions on it, learn more about it. Tell that secret to someone, anyone. Come up with a plan on what to do with that, one that would be better than keeping it hidden and out of anyone’s reach — especially Sephiroth’s; which was sort of a hilarious and ironic thought, that one of him keeping a piece of materia from his former enemy for such a long time.

( _Anything_. Anything that wouldn’t require him to just throw it away and forget about its origins.)

Instead Cloud kept it to himself almost selfishly; paying attention to the things that happened in the world, watching — like a wolf stalking its prey — for the moment that would require the powers of a summon. Something that would require him to call for an unknown being instead of calling for the Knights of the Round or a Bahamut.

If he looked at the distance with worry in his expression, whenever he knew Sephiroth wasn’t looking, it wasn’t only for his memories of conflicting events in his past. In any case, nobody really mentioned that fact.

* * *

 _“One day. The judgement that comes to restart the cycle.”_ The soothing voice told him, carrying that not so soothing information, while he slept. After so many months, those dreams and the visions that came along them had finally come again; speaking of an eternal flame consuming everything, dark skies which held no hope for the future ahead and the transience of all that had come only to pass.

And showing disturbing images of bad omens.

That made it almost ironic and unfortunate, that humans worked so hard and cared so deeply about leaving their mark onto the world; about making sure to leave something behind to avoid lingering behind as a simple memory that could fade in time, and yet in the very end, there was nobody to care about anything, anymore. Nobody to pick up the remains of the past and learn of the history behind days long gone, emotions long faded and conflicts so intensely fought.

(And of course, no hero to save a dying world, though Sephiroth expected it to be the case in such a scenario.)

Despair not provided by him was offered to the young man by the situation Cloud found himself in; surrounded by destruction and death, with the twisted and burning corpses of those recently fallen to keep him company. Alone and fighting his way through, the last man still standing on that ruined land.

Unlike Vincent, who — accordingly to his other vision — apparently lost control to Chaos and accomplished Omega’s goal of gathering all of the Planet’s Lifestream, only to fall in the end, like a puppet cut off from its strings, Cloud seemed to be still very aware of what was happening. (Of the fact he was alone and probably going to die soon; of the fact it was a futile fight, the one he chose to pick, the one he kept fighting anyway.)

Cloud moved like the soft summer breeze; a gentle, practically weak presence with just a touch of those winds which could bring harm in their awakening. And like such, he couldn’t bring down the powerful flames that worked to leave that land barren of any kind of life.

He couldn’t stop the reaper’s killing spree, couldn’t bring his hand to raise his sword against one who had journeyed with him in times long gone. Not that he could do so in the first place; his body giving off the exhaustion from surviving for more than it should be likely in the middle of such a chaotic environment, his steps slow as if he was dragging himself across the land as he walked.

Sephiroth wasn’t allowed to interact with that vision at all, for some unknown reason, which was more than just annoying. There was something about watching Cloud dragging himself onwards like so that filled him with utter agony, made his stomach sink and turn in the most unpleasant of the ways. He followed to watch the vision to the end anyway, even if he dreaded the sensation of being so powerless that he couldn’t do anything to stop that, to bring the one he was fated to protect to safety.

Even if it were to watch an uncontrolled Chaos delivering a gruesome end to him, one that wasn’t any better compared to living in a time like that. It was relief but yet, there was no honor in dying like that; being simply stripped away of life without being able to fight back, caught off guard by an enemy coming from the lifeless skies above.

Another of many humans down, just another living being reaching the end of the line, but yet…

Sephiroth woke up abruptly, his heart hammering in his chest, breathing as if he had been drowning in his sleep and with bits of his hair clinging to his sweating body in a way that was rather bothersome given the situation.

It was just a vision, nothing more. He had to remind himself of that and calm down. Maybe it was meant to shock him into focusing on what was expected of him, the Planet showing him the demise of the one he was supposed to protect. A demonstration of what his reality _could_ become in a far away future, because he couldn’t possibly allow it to become that. Just the thought of it, coupled with the images shown, left him shaken.

He stood up at last, bothered enough by what he saw to be able to go back to sleep. The visions of fire and death were plenty; an omen he needed to drown in cold water. If he was going to stay awake, he’d rather do so while feeling refreshed.

The clock by his bed informed him that it was close to two in the morning. Sephiroth supposed that by this time, everyone in the house would be asleep and Cloud — who had been busy with delivery and hadn’t yet returned by the time he went to bed — would be back and similarly lost in the land of dreams.

What he didn’t expect was to pass by Cloud’s room to find it empty, door wide open for anyone awake to see. It didn’t sit well with him after the vision he saw, that Cloud wasn’t in the safety of that room. _Was he even in the house to begin with?_ Hn.

He allowed himself to take a shower first, quick enough so that worry wouldn’t start consuming him. It was probably silly of him to be concerned like that. Cloud knew how to take care of himself and there was a chance he found an unexpected job; an extra one that took him far enough from home that he decided to stay in an inn or something instead. That city was big enough for such a thing to be normal.

The water that hit his body was freezing but Sephiroth found in him the power to avoid caring about that. It didn’t take long until he was used to the feeling of it, anyway. He had been quick to adapt since a young age — a trait forced onto him by demands of the environment he’d been in. From accepting all those experiments that more than once left him unwell to not holding on any hope more than deemed appropriate (overconfidence was a self-destructive element, anyway), to accepting that an outworldly creature talking into his mind was his mother and following without complaint. It made him appear to be cold, distant… but it was only the reality he grew up with. Being able to adapt quickly meant surviving. If someone fell dead on the battlefield he shouldn’t stop to mourn for them and risk becoming another easy casualty.

Long strands of silver hair started clinging to him in places that really bothered Sephiroth. He threw it all over his shoulder for the moment. It didn’t solve much but it’d have to do.

Maybe when he was finished, he’d walk out to discover Cloud had returned.

That didn’t turn out to be the case or maybe, he just showered and washed his hair in record time. To put down the concern, he did something he’d rather not do and searched for him by the connection of their cells.

He thought it odd, to find his former nemesis in such a place that late in the night.

* * *

Cloud surely noticed the large white hound walking into the church, mako colored eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. He fixed a certain something back on a bracer before acknowledging the shapeshifter by the door, from the almost hidden place — not that far from the flowers, but still right where light didn’t reach — he chose to sit on.

“Fenrir.”

The dog approached him with the usual caution, tail wagging involuntary. He sat by the young man’s side, appreciating the hand that came to run briefly through his fur in an already familiar gesture. Fur that was quite damp.

“Is it raining out there?”

“No,” the silver haired man answered, changing back so quickly that Cloud turned to look at him upon hearing his voice “I just took a shower.” His hair was tied up in a loose ponytail, looking just like someone had run a hand through the silver strands.

“This late?”

“You’re one to ask, being here of all places this late.” He looked up at the noticeable hole in the ceiling, quite absent-minded. “I had… a nightmare. Then I noticed you didn’t come back, so I…”

“Came after me?” Cloud completed it for him.

Sephiroth nodded.

“It’s an odd place to be at such a time,” He explained, avoiding the “I’m glad you’re unharmed” lingering on the tip of his tongue “I couldn’t not come. What brought you here?”

“I needed to think about something.” Much more than just a simple something, actually. Trouble seemed to be following his thoughts in recent times, like a predator observing its prey, coming subtly and evoking a feeling that things would turn out to be unfortunate very soon. That the damaged summon materia he carried with him glowed twice in the last three days without being touched or activated didn’t help with it at all.

(Not that Sephiroth needed to know about that last detail, of course.)

“Troublesome enough that you needed to do it somewhere else?”

“I have two deliveries outside town,” Cloud started with a nod, then noticed the confusion settling on Sephiroth’s face and continued before he could be interrupted, “One of them is in Nibelheim.”

Sephiroth sighed. “Are you really sure about going there?” Nibelheim was a sensitive subject after all, one that was avoided as a discussion topic with the others, one that didn’t require further explanation as to why it would be problematic enough to simply consider going to the location alone — as he knew very well that Cloud wasn’t the kind of person to bother others over things he had issues with, even if it was a better decision over facing the problem on his own. With the others busy with their own lives, it was even more likely to be a lonely trip to the other continent for his former nemesis.

“It’s not a place I’d like to stay in for long, but yes.” Although he hadn’t been there since the time he had been chasing Sephiroth across the Planet with the others and even though it still didn’t sit right with him that the place was rebuilt as an exact copy of the previous town, he knew he could do it. He had to. The money that would bring outweighed the travel’s spendings. Cloud could help a little with the bar — after all, he lived in the house behind it, which was part of the property — and help himself to a little luxury or another, maybe even one to share with his friends.

Perhaps, by improving his surroundings he’d be able to overcome a lot of what troubled him; of being unable to save some friends, for one, of seeing so much pain, so much loss and sadness in the past that he had no power to stop.

Those were good deals, the ones which paid well in more ways than just one. However…

“It’s just… the other delivery I have… When you put the two of them together it gives off this feeling that something is gonna go wrong.”

“Where?”

“...The Forgotten Capital,” Cloud answered with some hesitation.

“You’re not going there on your own.” It came out a little colder than he’d have liked, with a touch of things he’d rather not bring up; things that Cloud seemed to be well aware of and danced around in equal measure.

But the place they were in at the moment didn’t help much with avoiding it.

“That’s what I’m worried about, the others thinking the same thing,” Cloud sighed “I… wanted to ask you to come along.”

That pulled all of Sephiroth’s attention immediately to him.

“Why me? Why not Tifa?” He asked, slightly puzzled.

“She has the bar and Marlen—” He interrupted himself “I mean, I guess she'd offer herself to come along if she knew, maybe end up leaving Marlene with one of our friends, but I can’t take her. It… would feel wrong.” By then, Sephiroth had started to think that Cloud was sighing too much. Maybe some form of frustration making itself at home? Perhaps guilt? Both? “Nibelheim was her hometown, too. And Aerith was… her best friend.”

Cloud stared at the flowers across from them, appearing to be a little distant. Another sigh escaped him; soft, perhaps a little sad. It filled Sephiroth with the strangest of the sensations, as if his heart was about to sink over something he couldn’t undo — something he regretted.

“You’re sane now,” Cloud murmured, so low that it'd go unheard for anyone without enhancements, “If something happens, I just need to look at you and remember that. I know you won’t hurt me anymore.”

Sephiroth found himself smiling fondly at that little affirmation of trust. Thankfully, neither of them was looking at the other, because that, too, filled him with a weird sensation. Odd, but quite warm at the same time.

He stared at the flowers across from them, his answer to that requiring no further thinking.

“I’ll go with you, then.”

“Thanks. That's an entire weight off my shoulders.” Cloud sighed.

“You’re welcome.”

They ended up falling into a comfortable silence, watching the plants in the short distance quite distracted. Sephiroth basked in the relief that he found Cloud unharmed and put some thought to the vision he saw, although he didn’t let his mind linger on how it ended. He didn’t like the way those dreams came to him; the first one repeating itself a few times with slight variations for some weeks before stopping altogether, the second coming as what seemed to be an event occurring before the first vision. It raised the question of — assuming that trend would continue — whether or not the visions would get to a point close enough to the present for him to understand what could be done to prevent such a thing… or what not to do to avoid that path and be able to shape the future in a way free from extreme consequences such as an end of the Planet they could witness but not escape from.

Not wanting to ponder about his materia issues with his former nemesis around, Cloud broke the silence at last.

“Isn’t it curious how even at a time like this there’s light here?”

And not just due to a broken ceiling letting it in. It was a place in the slums after all and even if there had been work going on in the months he had been to the city again, meant to improve every single part of it, (in a mako free way, nonetheless) there was still the undeniable fact that they were under the plate. Sephiroth had heard of a possible city being planned to be constructed not so far from Midgar, in an attempt to offer more chances for slum dwellers. A city that didn’t follow the plate structure Midgar did, a joint project from WRO and Shinra.

(He never thought he’d see something with a finger of Shinra in it that was focused in making commoners’ lives better in his lifetime. It took the despair from the Meteor crisis to see the direction of the company finally change and the realization that if they didn’t care for Gaia or for the people they were likely to face extreme consequences to settle in.)

In any case, the light passing through, of the moonlight rather than artificial illumination that couldn’t reach the church from up there, was an interesting phenomenon indeed.

“And yet, you sit in the darkness.” Sephiroth noted, a little perplexed by that.

“You do, too.”

A smile formed on his lips with that observation.

“When you spend too much time in the darkness, it becomes comfortable, while the light becomes blinding.”

“Or maybe light vanishes when you look at it.” Cloud added, as his namesake probably passed in front of the moon above, turning the church dark for a moment.

Sephiroth stared at him for quite a while. That place brought up complicated topics without either of them even intending to. Just like the places Cloud intended to go to for work. He didn’t know what possibly could be delivered to a place where nobody lived like the Forgotten Capital, where something unfortunate took place. Unless it was a visit to a cemetery that the client couldn’t make… _Oh_.

Gaia, that would be a difficult trip, indeed.

“But then it’s not your fault the light vanished. Maybe it’s just the way it was meant to be at the time, even if it was upsetting.” Sephiroth tried to approach the matter in a careful way. “Perhaps someday you can see that light again.”

Unknown to them, there was someone else listening to that exchange; someone who decided to appear for a brief moment once the cloud had passed and light illuminated the flower patch again.

Cloud gasped in his surprise, catching his attention. No way that could be an illusion with the way Sephiroth stared as well at the ghost tending to the flowers like the living version of her would’ve done in the past before disappearing.

“See?” It wasn’t like him to let out a nervous laugh like that, but it managed to escape anyway, as he was still quite surprised “I don’t think she’d appear if she blamed you for anything.”

“...You do have a point.”

But yet the expression on Cloud's face told him it wouldn’t be so easy for him to forgive himself over that part of the past. It hurt a bit to see it, but Sephiroth didn’t feel like much could be done about that. He could offer support as needed, but in the end it shouldn't be him the one to do the forgiving.

And so, not wanting to dive deeper into the matter, he rose from where he sat and offered Cloud a hand.

“Come now, let’s go home.”

Allowing himself to be helped up, Cloud left the church with his former nemesis, leaving behind flowers that were strong enough to be born in a difficult environment, live even with the pollution brought by the reactors and survive after the rain of Meteor’s dust.

Perhaps with time, they’d manage to bloom in places the reactors had robbed of life before.

* * *

As expected, Tifa was concerned about those delivers, so far away. She demanded to know where, only to grow more restless. Sephiroth then interrupted, swearing by the Goddess that he wouldn’t allow harm to come to her friend, that they’d be in contact if that would put down her worries.

Many months with a sane version of him around, who helped and cared for others, who was reserved and even carried himself with a certain guilt, eventually made her quite fond of him. Like it happened with Cloud, they didn’t touch on matters of the past that brought up any traumas and even if a little awkward, their friendship — or whatever that was — developed well.

So, with the knowledge that her friend would be in good company, — and one blessed by the Planet itself, nonetheless — she let her worries drop and wished them a safe trip.

* * *

Sephiroth held his tongue not to ask something that made him curious as they arrived at that cursed town. There was a memory attached to that question that wouldn’t help in the slightest. As much as he’d have liked to know how did it feel for Cloud to return to that place that was no longer the same after so long, he’d rather not make the trip an even more unpleasant experience. He even refused to lead their way to the inn, to avoid repeating the same gestures he did the first time they went to that town together.

(That one first time that ended in death and that changed everything.)

There was no need in awakening demons of the past in such a short stay, anyway. They were to spend the night there after delivering the package to the local store’s owner, then boarding to the northern continent in the following morning.

Or that was the plan until one of the locals reported a problem with dragons. Apparently, some of the native wildlife got in the old, abandoned reactor and their contact with mako increased the danger they offered.

In the end, no matter if that was a replacement for a town long gone or if the original town’s inhabitants didn’t treat Cloud properly. There was danger near people who didn’t know how to fight, — some even with children, making matters worse — and Cloud felt the need to do something about it. The two of them were enhanced and, (for their own safety, since they intended to go to the northern continent as well) had their weapons with them. Sephiroth agreed on doing something about it, knowing fully well that his travel companion wouldn’t let the issue behind do easily.

As it turned out, not only beasts had made the old reactor and its surroundings their home. Different sorts of plants and fungi were slowly starting to take over; growth speed most likely increased by mako.

Regardless of the state of the structure and the nest found near it, or the fact that they didn’t fight anything in so long, a dragon wasn’t a match for either of them. In fact, Sephiroth could almost take it down on his own — given the animal was enhanced as well, it was quite the feat. Cloud joked that the other man was still a show-off, but got no answer to that other than a smirk.

The strangest part of that entire ordeal was that things were going... well. Maybe a little _too well_. Both of them were aware of it, exchanging knowing looks from time to time. It was best that they didn’t stay in that mountain for longer than necessary, so they turned to head back.

At some point during their descent, Cloud mentioned how he didn’t like that place, no matter how much time passed, how all of those little mako springs around gave him an eerie feeling he simply couldn’t seem to shake off.

Sephiroth didn’t judge him. That was a place that told an awful history for both of them, even if in differing degrees.

But even if he did, he’d have taken it back and apologized after the events that followed; almost as if history wanted to repeat itself in some way, while still finding ways to be different.

(For the bridge they crossed on their way up, which seemed strong enough to stand there for a whole another decade, parted under Cloud’s feet during a tremor that shook the mountains.)

The few seconds that elapsed offered nothing but sheer agony. Cloud turned to look at him upon noticing that something was wrong, meaning to alert him about it, only for the earthquake to intensify and the inevitable to occur. There wasn’t really any time to hold onto anything or to avoid the fall.

Sephiroth let out a black wing and dove after him, managing to catch him before it was too late, but falling victim of the harsh winds and colliding against the mountain walls rather than properly flying.

Next thing he knew, they were falling. Luckily, close enough to the ground for the fall itself not to be an issue.

* * *

“...Your... wing,” Cloud let out, almost breathing out the words. Something sank in the his chest at the words. It didn’t seem like Cloud was surprised to see it, — even if Sephiroth couldn’t recall whether he had shown it or not — rather looking concerned about its state. It explained why his back hurt like so, as the appendage extended from there, but yet… Sephiroth swallowed hard at the thought of what could have happened, as he couldn’t turn to look without drowning in the way it ached.

If anything, his travel companion's concerned expression seemed to make the pain worse.

“What… what about it?”

“It’s… it looks out of place.” And it missed more feathers than it seemed comfortable. Cloud tried to move once more, a little more careful this time. After all, being stuck under Sephiroth wouldn’t help either of them, would it?

His movements drew another groan out of Sephiroth, but it couldn't be helped. He really needed to do something to help and fast. He had dislocated his arm when he fell as a kid. Even if his memories were messed up for so long, the one of how painful that experience was still lingered. A wing was different but it didn’t mean it hurt any less. And given what he could see of it, it made sense that Sephiroth would get so irritated at being pushed by him before.

Wiggling his way out from under his former enemy didn’t help with the pain at all for the duration of that long moment of struggle. But then, without a heavy weight on him, at least Cloud could try to help.

The moment he touched that wing, — gently, minding the its state and the harm he aggravate by don’t handling things with care — Sephiroth almost screamed out in pain. Perhaps he had just picked out a really bad spot and nothing else. Although… every spot seemed to be very bad to touch, to begin with.

“I’ll… need you to relax,” Cloud told him “And to tell me if it hurts too much.”

“...I know the procedures,” came the murmured answer, sounding pained and barely audible.

“Good.” He tried to touch the wing again. It wouldn’t be fixed without him pulling on it a little to put it back into place after all, which required a lot of touching even if it was probably a terrible idea to handle it like so. Probably even more than he thought as Sephiroth made for a bad patient. “You’re not relaxing,” The blond observed, “Should I... put you to sleep instead?”

“Yes, p-please… and do it fast…”

Not that it’d ease the pain, but being under the spell would relax him for long enough. It was the closest they had to some form of relief given the situation.

And yet, he couldn’t help but think that Sephiroth made for a bad patient. A bad patient who had equipped himself with a ribbon, which had to be removed before the spell could be cast; just the smallest of the interruptions in all of that. With him finally asleep, he could start to deal with the issue at hand.

(But oh, looking at the damage that wing took from their fall made his heart clench a little.)

It was almost unbelievable even to him how, months before, that same man had been following in Jenova’s footsteps, putting to practice the plan she couldn’t execute, like a pawn; on the side of the enemy, — definitely becoming the enemy himself — toying with him to move said plan forward, most likely able to kill him all along but never doing so. And even so, there he was, jumping after him to probably attempt to ensure the his safety even if it meant risking himself.

(A Weapon, no matter if it was produced by the Planet, accepted as such by it or otherwise was still very much mortal. Cloud knew that fact from experience, having defeated so many of them during his journey around Gaia. For a god to be mortal like that, however, was yet a strange concept in his mind. Not that it really mattered much anyway, after all Sephiroth came to fit rather well in the group of misfits he had as friends, but it was an odd thing nonetheless.)

Cloud had complained about the man being too heavy, but thinking of that entire incident made him feel guilty about doing so. He sighed, working the dislocated bone on that wing back into place.

There were a few things that could wake up someone from a powerful Sleep spell and some occurrences of whoever was afflicted by it returning to the land of dreams shortly after coming to their senses; as if they had returned to awareness by an alarm going off, only to turn it off and fall asleep again.

Apparently, the moment a bone returned to its place was enough to do the trick.

He watched as Sephiroth almost screamed into awareness, shook his wing away from his hands, hissed and fell asleep again, rolling onto his side in an attempt to make himself more comfortable on the ground. His attempts to wake him up once more, intending to make sure everything was alright, went in vain. It hardly looked as if Sephiroth had been in the military before by the way he fell into such a deep slumber. Anyone who didn’t know better would say that it was the case, that such a man couldn’t have been a General in any point of his past, that he was probably one of those odd figures in black cloaks that appeared before — and Sephiroth still favoring black for his clothes didn’t help in the slightest.

That being the case there was a single solution to the issue of needing to clean any wounds before throwing in a much deserved Cure.

* * *

Sephiroth woke up to find himself surrounded by pleasant warmth, somewhere far more comfortable than the cold mountain ground. It looked like the inn, except that the bed seemed… larger at the first glance? Or rather, it seemed like the two beds had been moved one near the other. At the very least, it offered his wing a little more support, which was needed, given how it still ached a little. That, along with the heat helped to ease the pain a little.

But still, that heat seemed to have more than one source.

Much to his surprise, there was a certain young man sleeping way too close to him, maybe closer than what was deemed respectable to one’s personal space. When Sephiroth moved his wing away to look at him better, Cloud just shifted to be even closer against him, as if he missed the extra warmth the feathers provided. Other than that he seemed undisturbed in his sleep. His presence so close like that had a calming effect Sephiroth didn't quite know how to explain. It couldn’t be an effect of the Jenova cells as the feeling of it was different from the pull of Reunion; such a peculiar warmth that seemed to reach his emotions rather than his body, leaving a strange sensation in its awakening and a feeling of exposure, — vulnerability — upon being acknowledged.

It wasn’t bad, by any means. In fact, Sephiroth wanted to drown in that sensation, wanted to be able to stop time just to bask in it. And yet, it felt so foreign that it terrified him to his very core.

He wanted it to stop, for the confusion that settled in his mind with that did nothing but upset him. It made him feel miserable, that he wanted anything at all that involved that odd package of feelings.

“Cloud?” He called at last, wanting the moment to cease at once. His... bed mate had to move and Sephiroth wasn’t very inclined towards the idea of pushing him away.

“Uhn… just another five minutes…” The sleepy tone of that voice didn’t help much with anything.

“ _Cloud_ ,” Sephiroth tried again, a little more firmly then.

It took another few seconds for Cloud to realize exactly where he was and distance himself a little with a gasp.

“Ah, Gaia! I—I’m… I’m so sorry. I was just, uh… trying to make sure you didn’t roll around in your sleep because of your wing…” He rushed with that explanation, not daring to make eye contact at any point “How… how are you feeling, by the way?”

 _Really, really warm_ , Sephiroth couldn't help but think.

“It still aches a little… But it’s nothing compared to the pain from before.”

Sephiroth would’ve asked how they got back to the inn — even if the answer seemed to lead to an almost obvious option of Cloud having carried him and the question would just be a confirmation — and if Cloud was fully alright but, before he had the chance, he noticed a bruise on his travel companion’s cheek. That definitely wasn’t a result from the fall, not from how it looked at least. He reached out to touch it as gently as it was possible for a brief moment.

“Who did this to you?” It came out almost coldly with a hint of something akin to possessiveness yet not so quite like it.

Lying was almost futile as Sephiroth knew when his former enemy was hiding something. Cloud sighed.

“...Someone recognized you. I had to leave you outside because I didn’t want the innkeeper to have a heart attack or something ‘cause of uh… the wing,” The blond rubbed at his eyes, trying to dismiss the lingering signs of sleepiness “When I went out again to bring you in, there was someone… said I was a freak and…” Cloud paused, recalling it. They had called his unconscious traveling companion a monster and had no fear of delivering further insults at the one who carried such “monster” with care, bringing the man to the town instead of just going for the kill. “They said the usual things.”

“And so you got slapped.”

“No.”

“...No?” Sephiroth raised an eyebrow, confused.

“I yelled right back at them. I’m not letting anyone call my friend a monster like that and walk away without listening some good things. And _then_ they slapped me, for defending you,” Cloud shrugged, “Then, the innkeeper had to come out and intervene.”

 _Friend_. The word lingered in his mind as a heavy presence. In the months that had followed after they left the Northern Crater behind, after things changed, Cloud had never put a name to the nature of their relationship. Sephiroth listened to the others being referred to as friends whenever Cloud mentioned them while talking to him and overheard conversations by accident more than once in which he, himself, wasn’t referred as such, with his name or the proper pronouns being used instead.

He was aware that he had developed some friendship of sorts with some of the others — and gone through the awkwardness of learning how to behave around Vincent, as neither of them had the experience with a father-and-son kind of bond — and painfully aware as well of whenever he simply being there or using certain words awakened a certain pain or another even if he didn’t intend to.

With Cloud, however, it was something different.

They didn’t hate each other, that was for sure. There was a solid degree of trust by then, as there was with everyone else they both knew — as there was now the fact that his former nemesis trusted him enough to fall asleep in close proximity. Smiles at silly antics and yet they were always dancing around the matter of past events as if those were covered in pure mako; avoiding it not to rustle each other’s feathers, out of respect for one another and the deal they’d settled. Leaving it all behind put them on good terms with one another, but Sephiroth always felt that there was a certain distance between them yet to be crossed and thus, couldn’t quite name what they had.

(And even if Cloud didn’t know, even if a future came in which there was nothing between them, he was still bound to Cloud by a duty assigned to him by the Planet. That didn’t help one bit.)

Perhaps, he hadn’t been expecting Cloud to use that word in reference to him. Or perhaps he decided that if Cloud started to refer to him as such, something in their universe would definitely change. Maybe he just had a bad experience with people who said they were his friends leaving him for a reason or another and was still getting used to the reality of having friends who stayed, even with all that happened before. Maybe being told to protect Cloud also made him wish that the tides of fate didn’t take him away.

Anyway, there was something else that struck him from what he heard.

“You picked up a fight with someone… for my sake?”

“You jumped after me and could have broken that wing of yours or something else for my sake,” Cloud retorted.

“I made a promise to bring you back unharmed.” He definitely wasn’t willing to face Tifa and inform her of the opposite. That was a woman who fell into the Lifestream once and came out of it without any problems whatsoever, bringing Cloud back with her. She had crossed Masamune’s path and lived to tell the tale. Even if she wasn’t his equal in power, he was sure she was still a worthy opponent.

A promise to someone and the duty assigned to him; he wasn’t turning back from either at this point.

“You’re a reckless fool,” Cloud snorted, “You could have… you could…” He lacked the courage to say it directly for what it was for whatever reason, “...ended up with more than just a dislocated wing.”

“You, too. Picking fights for my sake after bothering with bringing me all the way back,” He chuckled “I thought you said I was heavy?”

“First of all, I’m a Strife. I have a whole history of picking up fights. And yes, you _are,_ especially with that wing out. The way back… was awful.”

It was then that Sephiroth noticed something in the corner of the room. Masamune was on the floor, near what was clearly the Buster Sword. Cloud had bothered not only to bring him back but also to find and bring their weapons as well, apparently.

“Cloud,” he started, taking a deep breath, “You are a little shit.” Well, he made him burst into laughter with that, — and maybe he had spent far too much time with Cid to pick up some… _words_ — which made that strange warmth blossom deep inside him once more, but there was still a tone of concern to his voice “You didn’t have to bring Masamune back. You, from all people… should know that it’s always with me. I can summon it at will.”

“I couldn’t just leave it there! Like Hel if I was gonna risk someone finding it and claiming it for themselves. It’s not just _any_ sword.”

 _It was Masamune, in all of its legendary length_. During all his life, Sephiroth hadn’t seen someone own a katana of the likes of it. It was too long and heavy for those unenhanced and even those enhanced were intimidated enough by it to want one for themselves. It was especially commissioned for him, at some point before he even knew Genesis and Angeal; before he was even aware of Cloud’s existence.

(Before he knew an unenhanced trooper could defeat him, become an experiment, receive enhancements that could’ve killed someone so unaccustomed to mako, survive it all and almost defeat him again.)

He liked the blade so much that when he fell into the reactor’s core and then, into the Lifestream, he took it with him, clinging to it so intensely that the sword became a part of him, to say the least.

“Thank you,” he said, offering a fond smile; one of those rare expressions Cloud hadn’t seem before.

Cloud opened his mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by the entire room shaking. Sephiroth pulled him closer by instinct, closing his wing over them in such a way that from an outside perspective it looked like they were inside a feathered cocoon of sorts. He held on tightly and waited for it to pass, ignoring the sound of the painting that decorated the wall falling because of the earthquake and the metallic noise of their respective weapons clashing against the floor and one another.

“I don’t suppose this is a normal occurrence around here,” Sephiroth noted, once things were calm again, when he could let go.

“It isn’t, yeah.” Cloud sat up on the bed. “I mean, it used to happen sometimes because of the reactor, but…”

“The reactor’s no longer active,” He completed for him.

“And it never had any impact on the town. Not like this.”

Sephiroth stretched out his wing upwards, still somewhat bothered by the way it felt. The tips of his feathers just lightly brushed against the ceiling. Cloud just stared for a long moment, a little distracted by the motion, by the existence of such a thing.

“I… didn’t know you had a wing in your, uh… home form,” Cloud commented, looking a little in awe because of it. There was no denying it that those feathers were beautiful, that the entire thing was huge.

“It’s a remnant of my _actual_ home form,” Sephiroth corrected him, “I’m not at my default, even if I’m more fond of this body.” He sighed, then let the wing drop down onto the bed again, gently, avoiding Cloud’s gaze “This is just proof that I’m no longer… human.”

It was  quite upsetting to hear such a thing but Cloud could still understand where that came from. It also made sense that Sephiroth would feel more comfortable being in a form that was either human or “normal” looking, of enjoying being in the form from before he gave in to despair and into Jenova’s reasons. Cloud carefully caressed the black feathers, trying to offer some comfort.

“You could morph into something with ten wings, four heads, a thousand eyes and you’d still be just a human with a lot of enhancements to me. I think it’s what you feel more comfortable with that counts.”

Sephiroth thought he felt really comfortable with his present situation, aside from the slight pain still bothering him. Even if Cloud actually said that in reference to his identity, his... humanity, rather than in regards to how comfortable he felt lying on that bed, with his traveling companion gently running his hands over his feathers. He closed his eyes with a sigh, realizing he didn’t want that to stop.

“I think… right now, I feel very comfortable with the possibility of sleeping for a while more, in this very human form with… an extra limb, if you don’t mind.” He smiled.

“Before we can leave this cursed town?”

“Mhmm. Which keeps getting more cursed as the time goes by, apparently.” It earned him a chuckle out of Cloud, which sounded so light that it made something inside of him feel like it was twisting in the strangest of the ways.

“I’ll call Reeve before we leave, warn him about the quakes. Maybe he can send some people to find out what’s up with those.”

Sephiroth mumbled what sounded like an agreement back at him. Neither of them could wait for the time when they’d leave that place, with hopes that nothing bad would come to pass in the other place they had to go to. A place where things also went really wrong the first time they’ve been there.


	4. A Place Frozen In Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth and Cloud travel north to the mysterious Forgotten Capital

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy, am I drowning in art WIPs and starting even more WIPs to bury myself in... I hope I can get to finish many things soon! For now, we return to writing for an update on this before I go drown in art WIPs once again (and try to finish them!! To pick up new projects and stuff!)
> 
> I also hope I can update again, soon, but who knows! Thanks to all of you reading this for your patience (and for reading, as well)!!
> 
> A list of more notes/references is down below (once again) so I don't spoil anything :3c
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The relief that they settled into upon leaving Nibelheim behind to continue their journey lasted as long as it took to leave the countryside and board a ship to Bone Village.

He was supposed to be there to keep Cloud company; keep him grounded so he would have a better time being in those places full of bad memories compared to how it could turn out on his own. And yet, the closer to the north they went, the more restless Sephiroth would become. To make matters worse, Cloud ended up being motion sick during most of their time aboard, with Sephiroth being left to that growing, unsettling sensation.

At some point, he left their cabin to simply stare at the horizon with a certain longing he couldn’t pin down; as if there was something he had lost where they were going, but wouldn’t be able to find it even if he went there. Even if he didn’t know what it was, it seemed important enough to fill him with even more restlessness.

The sight of the Crater in the distance didn’t help at all with getting him to relax.

Sephiroth had been there, in more than one occasion. It had been his resting place for years before he could muster any energy to continue Jenova’s plan, for one. It had been where he manipulated Cloud into handing him the Black Materia and, going deeper into the Crater, where he had gone from being an enemy of that world to becoming an ally. There'd always be a connection, even if he’d gotten used to calling the house behind Tifa’s bar his new home. It'd always be tied to a dark part of his past he’d left behind a long time before; his garden of unwanted memories.

It bothered him, along the way he felt unsettled.

If anything, it felt as if the Northern Crater waiting in the distance was calling out for him, inviting him to reach its core once again — the place where everything had abruptly changed to offer him either another chance to start his life anew or one of deep slumber until he was required to do something, anything for that Planet.

(Like a knight serving under a king during a time when there were no more wars to be fought. Stopping to think of it, he realized that the basic concept of his current nature wasn’t that much different from his time under Shinra’s rules or the time he’d spent influenced by Jenova’s ideas. Granted, this time the Planet ruled over him, — and ruled over every living being as well — but the feeling of being loyal to a master was there if he payed any attention to it for long enough.)

Sephiroth sighed, a little desperate to be within his lair of clouds once again and yet, not wanting to go there all the same.

A woman with long, brown hair stopped by his side to look at the sights in the distance as well. A short woman dressed in pink clothes, carrying with her that feeling of the land beyond the reach of the living. Once she opened her mouth, he was completely sure that her presence was just a temporary occurrence.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

“If one of us has to apologize, I’m the one who should be doing so.” It only seemed fair, given the path which led them both to such a meeting. Masamune’s blade had tasted her blood; had stolen her away from those who cared about her. She definitely shouldn’t be the one coming up with an apology. “So, why are you—” Sephiroth was cut off abruptly.

“I’ve learned about what the Planet expects you to do. It is…” Aerith trailed off, shaking her head. If he didn’t know the reason for her apology without her explaining it, then he probably wasn’t aware of much. Her timing was either off or Gaia was just carrying things out as slow as it was possible.

However, she could sense him looking at her with interest in what she could have to say. There was but one solution to such an issue.

“How much do you know?” She asked.

“This world will end. Omega will rise to take all of the Lifestream away to begin anew somewhere else. It’s something nobody will be able to stop once it starts.”

“ _The Champion shall leave this land by the hands of the one deemed a calm warrior, for his sacrifice is required to begin anew._ ” And it was a sad thing, that; the foretelling of a friend’s demise at the world’s end. Even if, at the end, such a thing almost sounded merciful.

Sephiroth was bothered by the premise of it.

“What shall we do to prevent it? I keep being shown these visions, being told to protect him, but it’s all so vague and—”

“We don’t do anything.” She said, sounding annoyed by the idea, herself.

“That… doesn’t sound like a smart plan.”

It made her laugh nervously, the sound coming with the effort it was taking her — and the Planet itself — to simply stand there in a more corporeal manner. Indeed, it was the worst plan ever, to wait for things to happen, for the right time to come, for everything to align just right. And being unable to do anything like that was a problem, sure. However, the focus of her apology was something else. Something Aerith was unsure she could tell… not the full version of it, at least.

“There isn’t much we can do right now, anyway. I’m dead and you have a power inside of you that you can’t use by yourself… something you’re supposed to give to Cloud so he can use it when it’s time. Let’s just say that… what you give him will change everything and that you’ll have a test on your hands.” It didn’t sound like something pleasant to go through and she knew very well it wasn’t, but it also happened to be the only solution for their upcoming problem. “I’m so sorry. I wish there was another way, one that didn’t involve any of you… You and Cloud have been through so much and didn’t even stop properly to heal...”

“Maybe, when whatever it is Cloud has to do is finally done, we can work on healing those wounds.”

It was wishful thinking, and she knew rather well it wouldn’t be that simple of a thing to be done with, but for the time being she allowed Sephiroth to hold on that little thread of hope. Not only that, but she just _couldn’t_ deny him to have it; the short time she had there running out and stealing her away again.

* * *

If anything, having Aerith talk to him about whatever it was that he had to do only served to rustle his feathers even more. Sephiroth couldn’t tell exactly if it was due anything regarding the matter at hand or simply due to her presence; a permanent reminder of his failure, of the time he was trying to put a certain travel-through-the-cosmos plan to work.

If he just hadn’t done what he did, maybe, just maybe, there wouldn’t be any need in their trip to the Northern Continent at all, for she would be _breathing_ , smiling, possible getting upset and angry at all that deserved it and hopefully, her being alive would change something in the universe and would have him getting annihilated by Cloud — and hey, with her alive and him being dead, wouldn’t that remove a weight from Cloud’s shoulders? If anything, he would still have a member of his group of misfits alive and well and there would be no guilt about ridding the world of him. They wouldn’t be friends after all, and Sephiroth would still pose a big threat to the Planet. His demise would be easily accepted as “what was needed to be done was done and all is well again” and there wouldn’t be anyone to miss him, really; the people he imagined being able to do so in such a scenario were either long dead or tried to use him for their own plans and were, probably, also dead.

He really needed to stop hanging onto “what if”s and “maybe”s, and most definitely stop clinging to some sort of death wish, even if in another universe, probably him dying would be of great joy to everyone.

 _Stop_. _Stop. Stop_.

Sephiroth was extremely concerned by what it’d be required of him when it was time. He was still suffering due to his weird longing, the feeling of being so close yet so far from the Crater and wanting to go there; still contemplating that strange sensation he had while being around Cloud sometimes.

For example, Cloud put a hand on his shoulder out of concern for his visible restlessness and he froze exactly where he was, close to Bone Village’s entrance. He had been so caught up in his thoughts that that very motion _surprised_ him, which only served to raise more concerns. It also awoke that odd feeling he couldn’t quite pin down once again, and nothing about that combined with how restless he was seemed to be good.

“You alright?”

“Yes,” Sephiroth simply responded. It was too simple of an answer and far from being enough to dismiss Cloud’s concern, however.

“...You sure?” There was a certain fear in Cloud's voice and both of them knew it was justified by past traumas, rather than he being afraid _of_ him.

It seemed — no, it was definitely the case — that Cloud was another someone who had the capacity to _really_ rustle his feathers, rendering him unnerved and, given the look he noticed his former enemy giving him as he turned to face him, filling him with the strange urge of wanting to pull Cloud into a tight hug and keep him close to soothe any possible worry of another “Nibelheim” happening.

(An urge he shoved away to the side, as that also came with those weird feelings he was still confused about. Or at last it was what he was telling himself, since stopping to think about it led Sephiroth to the conclusion that he definitely didn’t mind Cloud touching him.)

“No,” he said, deciding that making him aware of it would makes things better than keeping that fact to himself, like he did back in that Nibelheim mission, “but I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

Sephiroth covered the hand on his shoulder with his own, vaguely noticing the difference in size between them and giving it a gentle squeeze before letting go. If his touch lingered a little, none of them dared to comment on it. In fact, it was Sephiroth’s turn of putting a hand on his travel companion’s shoulder once he noticed Cloud obviously forgot to bring a lunar harp with himself by the way he was seemed to be heading over to someone he could ask to dig up one.

“There’s a way to cross the forest without a lunar harp,” he simply told him, low enough that it had an almost secretive ring to it.

“Oh?” Cloud’s confusion distracted him enough from his own concerns to the point Sephiroth cracked a little smile.

“Follow me and I’ll show you what I mean.”

* * *

Quite often, Cloud would cast a questioning glance in Sephiroth's direction while avoiding the question that formed on his mind once he accepted the offer to be led into the forest. A question that lingered on the tip of his tongue after Sephiroth simply didn’t explain how they’d manage to make it across without a lunar harp of their own. By then, he was no longer just following; walking beside his travel companion instead, close enough for their arms to brush against one another from time to time.

He was entirely unaware of how incredibly _distracting_ that was.

Also unknown to him, Sephiroth had shoved his thoughts on said distraction aside completely, deeming them unnecessary at that moment, for the moment he let himself think further on it would be the moment when they’d lose themselves. Granted, he could fly and possibly carry Cloud out of there with him, but given what happened in Nibelheim, he’d rather avoid the impact that’d have on his wing.

(He healed fast but that didn't mean he would be careless to the point of opening himself — and likely Cloud as well — to further risk.)

Once they were halfway through, Cloud couldn’t hold onto the question anymore. As far as he was aware, they had yet to come across their own footsteps, so they couldn’t be walking in circles… right?

“So, how are we getting through without a harp, anyway?” He mused aloud, that questioning look of his lingering on Sephiroth for a brief moment.

“The moment you step into this forest,” Sephiroth started, not sparing a single glance at him, “it slowly fills your mind with all sorts of distractions as you try to focus on the path. Before you notice, you’ll be walking in circles. You need something to keep yourself focused or a way to leave if you get lost.”

“There’s no magic to the harp then, huh?”

“Someone probably made it across with one and supposed it was the right and only way to do it, then spread the tale.” He shrugged and wondered for a split second. Even Aerith had used one of those things. Shouldn’t her, as a descendant of the Cetra, know better about it? Maybe be able to follow the call of the Planet rather than relying on such a thing? But then again, he’d become aware she didn’t have her biological mother with her from a young age and the knowledge of the Ancients wasn’t something well spread. Perhaps she wanted to play it safe, too. He put the thought away as something to ask her whenever they had time to talk again.

“Uh…” Cloud hesitated “What’s keeping you focused if you don’t mind me asking?”

 _You_.

“I’ve been counting footsteps.”

( _Your footsteps_.)

And Cloud, he supposed, was too busy being curious about how they were getting through the forest — and close enough to him, as well — to stray from their path. He thought of that supposition as something fascinating; entirely unaware of just _what_ was slowly changing as time went on.

“Have I told you already you’re a big show-off?” Cloud chuckled, the sound of it so light and genuine that it hit the taller man with an unfamiliar, warm feeling.

Regardless of that unknown emotion that bothered him due to his lack of understanding, he cracked up a smile.

“Just a dozen times or so,” was his teasingly reply. In a different time, this kind of repetition would've had him somewhat annoyed, (but also somewhat proud of himself due to the nature of what was said) simply shrugging it off and carrying on. However, with things having changed long ago, he found himself amused at poking fun at Cloud’s insistence that he was a show-off.

And maybe, just maybe, now that he was free from Jenova’s influence and was considered some sort of divine being by the Planet itself, things he picked up in the past due to his brief time around a certain Zack Fair and his time around his old friends overall, combined with his opposition of Cloud for a considerable amount of time, were all returning to him in the form of friendly teasing.

_All hail Sephiroth, huh?_

Sephiroth tried to push aside the thoughts of the past while the two of them kept walking through that forest. Cloud knew his trick to getting through it then, but still he wouldn’t dare to risk losing himself or having to resort to any sort of godly power. For the time being he wanted to feel more like a man than a god or a Weapon; wanted to bask in the sensation of walking through that place with someone by his side. Besides, Angeal, Genesis and Zack were all gone from his life in a way or another. At that point, it wasn’t even worthy anymore to weep over it, knowing that nothing he ever tried would possibly bring any of them back to him.

_In fact, you even contributed greatly in leading Zack to his death. Just… good job, you fool. You had no sense of honor whatsoever back then. Setting fire to a town, killing innocent civilians… really? What were you even thinking?_

He wanted that voice in his head that pretty much sounded like an angered Angeal to shut up while Cloud and he crossed the forest together. They still had a long way to make to a certain lake and the closer to it they got, the more restless Sephiroth would become, even if he was succeeding in keeping it to himself this time. He told himself it was because he was about to step in some sort of sacred territory where he was, obviously, unwelcome and undeserving of even setting a foot in, the fact that he wasn’t Gaia’s enemy any longer be damned.

It was _her_ grave and he had ordered her killing, after all.

He couldn’t control the sigh that escaped him. It earned him a quick glance he barely noticed, out of the corner of his eye, while drowning in his own issues with that trip. From afar, he had manipulated the man walking beside him into almost doing something horrifying. The same man he had to protect, following a divine duty. The same man who, despite how that new situation started, accepted him in his group of misfits.

That same man whose hand accidentally brushed against his own again as they moved their arms while walking together, pulling him back from his negative thoughts, back to counting footsteps (Cloud’s footsteps, that had sort of fallen into rhythm with his as he adapted his pacing a little in consideration of the Cloud’s shorter stature) and getting through the luminous forest of white trees. Sephiroth tried not to wonder why he wanted to give into temptation and just take a hold of it — perhaps it was just the very human nature of longing for contact kicking in.

(Even if he naturally avoided contact out of science related trauma. Even if he wasn’t the sort of person who wanted to hold hands with someone just because a hand was randomly brushing against his own from time to time.)

Perhaps, he figured, it was just his spending too much time around AVALANCHE making an effect on him; too much time spent helping people that now a part of him was making itself louder about the human need for contact, even if he wasn’t exactly fully human to begin with, which would contribute to explain why he didn’t feel the need of being touchy in the first place.

He really needed to stop thinking about that.

“You know…” Cloud mused, deciding to break the silence they had fallen into, “When she left us, I guess it was when it really dawned on everyone the true nature of all of… well, all of that… How much it would take for it all to end...”

Cloud also needed to let go of his negative thinking, even if that fit under the topic of “cemetery talk”, given where they were going and the nature of the delivery to be made.

They usually avoided the past like it was a deadly enemy they weren’t (yet) prepared to fight in earnest. The matters that already came to pass only seemed to make things messy, bring up an awkward mood no matter the situation, ever since the first dip into it on Cloud’s part. They agreed not to talk about such things, especially in situations which prompted either of them to throw the topic of it abruptly at the other. That was a decision that spread to the others as well during their phase of getting used to having around someone they initially pursued to defeat.

(A decision that Tifa had approved on the spot, seemed relieved by it. Sephiroth would later learn the cause of that in her retelling to him of her own experience with bringing up childhood promises in an attempt to make a grown up man stay and the outcome of that in the end of the journey; the fact said man couldn’t keep his promise in the way she originally wanted him to and the fact that many promises made on that journey couldn’t be kept due to various reasons; that it was probably the right decision to avoid dilly dallying and they all would come to terms with the things that happened in time.

(Sephiroth had come to hate that kind of statement. That things would get resolved when it was “the right time”. He was a very patient man, but there was only so much patience he could muster when the Planet itself offered him visions of the world’s end, a not so clear duty and the information that he would know what to do in time. But how much time did he have until then?)

“What was she like as a friend?” Sephiroth decided to ask, already knowing fully well that it would add more guilt to his pile to hear the answer, but wanting Cloud not to focus on the negative side of it for much longer. He needed him to walk tall, get through that delivery and head back to the usual routine; needed him grounded in the present and not blaming himself for the past.

They couldn’t change the past anyway, right? So why bask in negativity?

 _As if you weren’t doing exactly that, yourself_.

“Hm… the kind of person everyone would want as their older sister.” Cloud offered, which didn’t help all that much in understanding what exactly he meant by that as Sephiroth himself was an only child who didn’t grow up with a proper family “Or... younger sister? How old are you again?”

“Twenty-seven,” Maybe he sounded too confident about that answer and shouldn’t really be, given that the matter of his actual age was a messy one. For one, Sephiroth hadn’t been told that birthdays were a thing until he had aged enough to begin to question the people around him about the various things that happened on the labs. On another hand, that question was brought up by him to people who, apparently, had no idea of how old he actually was. They had a date on when he had been brought to the labs and an _approximate_ range of his age. Hojo had deemed his question “entirely irrelevant” as well.

Sephiroth had picked the day he left the labs as his birthday for a long time; had thought himself to be younger than he actually was for enough time that he’d started to believe it. Or at least until that damned mission in Nibelheim happened and he had found a date, hidden away within the pages of an old journal. Granted, he had been losing his sanity while going through the archives deep down in that mansion’s basement; the voice calling him from the reactor up in the mountains planting dangerous seeds in his mind and winning him over with her powerful influence. But he had held onto the information and never let go of it. He was two years older than he assumed himself to be initially, and what he had found put his birthday in late October.

He felt Cloud’s eyes linger on him for a moment too long before he heard “I thought you were twenty-five” with a ring of surprise to it.

“Me too.” It made him wonder, kinda amused, if his fan club had spread the information of his assumed age back in the day. If so, the fact that Cloud had kept that information somehow was… endearing, in a way that brought back distracting thoughts, which he promptly avoided. “As it turns out, Hojo found birthdays to be irrelevant. I found out the actual date a while back.” And that didn’t need further explanation at the moment, given his intent was avoiding sad topics, Nibelheim included. “Actually... I’m just a few months away from turning twenty-eight.”

“Oh? And when is that?”

“It’s on October 23rd.” What a curious date that one was, if he stopped to think about it. It was just ten days after his father’s birthday, in the most bizarre of the coincidences, while also happening to be basically a month after the arrival at Nibelheim for that one dreaded mission — passing it just by a day or so. Sephiroth had lost notion of the time during that particular event, but he highly believed the burning of that mountain town to have happened in early October, even if the idea of it being in the same month as his birthday — and Vincent's — sounded unpleasant. In any case, he wanted to consider it no longer. “What about yours?”

“August 11th, which is…” Cloud trailed off, as if he’d realized something. A realization that had been mutual.

“Tomorrow?”

“Y-yeah. Gaia…” Cloud chuckled, noticing how silly the prospect of what happened just then was “I forgot about it.”

“You’re getting old,” Sephiroth teased.

“Says the man who’s getting closer to his thirties,” and there was the chuckle again, which made Sephiroth feel way gladder than he should’ve been at how well the change of topics had gone, “I’ll be twenty-two tomorrow.”

Sephiroth immediately forced away the thought of what he was doing when he was around twenty-two, only to remember it anyway.

He was too busy setting Nibelheim on fire and going on a killing spree for the sake of the creature he assumed to be his mother; too lost in his own delusions and Jenova’s influence to realize how disturbing and wrong what he had done back then was. And Cloud had been only sixteen during that occasion. No wonder their ages felt off when Sephiroth stopped to think about it. Neither of them had gone through life the way one was supposed to do.

The two of them hadn’t lived at all for  _five_ or so years.

“Time goes by so fast, doesn’t it?” Unintentionally, maybe he sounded melancholic enough that Cloud ended up taking his hand in an attempt to do the same thing he had just done; trying to push away all of that negativity that was taking form.

It had been enough distraction that Sephiroth lost count of the his footsteps. He started counting again, regardless of them being so close to the end of the forest by then.

“It does, yeah. But think on the bright side: we don’t have an oversized meatball in the sky to worry about anymore.”

Sephiroth couldn’t help but laugh at that, even if the memories of said “oversized meatball” weren’t tied to any pleasant things at all. “Oh, that would be awful.”

Beside him, Cloud snorted before agreeing. And knowing fully well that soon the mood would go back to being a sad one once more, Sephiroth tried to hold on that little moment of enjoyment they were having with all his might while he was able to; hanging on the thought that, once they were back home, he’d get something for Cloud, even if it’d be a late birthday gift by then.

After all, time went by faster than he wanted it to go.

* * *

If Cloud didn’t know better, he’d say that abandoned city had just stopped in time. But then again, it was an odd place overall, what with it being on the northern continent but not being as cold as the rest of it. It carried an air similar to that of Nibelheim, except it didn’t have the faint smell of mako from the natural mountain springs lingering all around and there have never been a reactor in the area to fill the air with such a smell, anyway.

The stillness and the pale colors of that location contrasted with how bright Aerith had been in life, he thought, as brought out the delivery and carefully set it down.

He remembered how his answer, that he’d pick up the job, brought some sort of relief and even a little happiness to Elmyra. More than once she reminded him it hadn’t been his fault, noticing the sorrow shining through his expression even if he’d tried to hide it. He’d noticed the woman’s own sorrow as well and couldn’t help but thinking that ordinary happiness should be there instead; that he’d stolen that away when he let Aerith travel with his (at the time) little group of misfits.

At first Elmyra had wanted him to deliver a bouquet. Cloud had brought up the concern that maybe the flowers wouldn’t be able to survive the trip, but that he’d do his best, regardless of that fact. It prompted an even better idea on the woman’s part: a memorial plaque. That also had flowers on it, albeit etched in stone, meant to last for a very long time.

Considering the place, maybe it would even last forever or for as long as that world existed, undisturbed in that silent sanctuary.

 _To the flower who blossomed beautifully, thank you for the memories you’ve given us all_.

There was no avoiding the words etched under her name as well, which made him feel like basking in that negativity again. If only he hadn’t been weak, if only he had put more effort in fighting off the intruder in his head, he’d have pulled his friend out of the way and avoided the fate she met due to his failure.

Elmyra blamed Sephiroth. He didn’t know if she knew he was in good terms with AVALANCHE; didn’t know whether it made things better or worse to place the blame on someone else. He could definitely place the blame of a lot of what happened on Jenova, for sure. He was also sure that if he went on a blaming spree and blamed Sephiroth, his former nemesis would take all of it without protesting, not even once.

After all, he had seen how much effort Sephiroth was putting in helping others, almost as if he was trying to compensate for all the evil he had caused. Even if nothing would compensate any of that. Of course, it was better than going on a destructive spree, but it was still a little… sad.

Cloud was only pulled away from his thoughts by a low groan behind him.

The sight of Sephiroth clutching at his head as if he were in pain filled him with both concern and a sensation that was almost déjà vu mixed with a hint of the wrong kind of nostalgia. He caught himself rushing to his friend's side in the way the others would do when he had one of his… episodes in the past.

(That Sephiroth almost pushed him away only served to bring back memories that weren’t his.)

They sat on the ground, once the unsteady one of the duo had pulled the other with him, trembling.

Cloud tried his best not to panic right then and there, trying to offer him any means of comfort in that situation.

* * *

“He’s gone out again,” Tifa told Cid as she handed him a drink, the stash behind her looking rather emptier than it should be “I think he’s gone after Vincent.”

“He found out where he is, then?” He drank from the glass like the alcoholic beverage in it was nothing “So, what the fuck are we still doing here?”

The way she looked at him, with a distant sadness and many doubts hiding poorly behind her frown, suggested that she wondered the exact same thing.

It was the first time in one of those visions Sephiroth was getting to hear dialogue of any kind. Though he supposed it should be normal given _what_ the other visions featured. It made him wonder whether or not the world was already burning or about to burn.

“He said…” She hesitated, decided to pour another drink for her friend and one for herself, “He said he wanted to make sure whether he could bring him home or not. Said that if we all go we could end up disturbing Vincent and well… he’s already having problems keeping Chaos at bay since the incident, who knows what can happen if we stress him out further?”

_The incident?_

Highwind once again finished his drink so fast that it left Sephiroth wondering how one who wasn’t genetically enhanced could do that, how many more of those he could drink in such a manner before getting drunk.

“Now how the heck am I s’posed to explain that to Yuffie without the brat throwin’ a tantrum?” He put his glass down with an annoyed sigh “Does Reeve know what our local chocobo is up to?”

 _Local chocobo_. A part of him wanted to keep the nickname to call Cloud by it.

“Cait Sith is everywhere,” Tifa offered, sipping a little from her own whiskey before putting the bottle at Cid's reach in case her friend wanted to keep drinking, as if that explained everything.

It kind of did, in a way. Though the idea of it was a little creepy, somehow.

Sephiroth wondered whether those cats shared the same mind or were aware of what the other cats were experiencing; thought about how many of those probably had exploded at the world’s end and didn’t want to think about the uncanny appearance those should have whenever fire melted their fluffy features and left their robotic bits exposed, didn’t want to think about the other cats’ reactions to knowing one of their brethren had fallen like that, no matter if those were artificial beings or not.

Maybe the next time he saw a Cait Sith, he’d pet the robot’s soft fur to compensate for those grim thoughts.

Talking of said furry robot…

Nanaki entered the bar with one of those mechanical cats on his back, his tail wagging from a side to another with his movement.

“So Cloud’s gone out,” he said, pulling the attention of the two people drinking at the counter.

“Yeah, on his own,” Cid responded, quite annoyed. Tifa had abandoned her drink to pull out… an oversized dog bed, placing it near the counter for their big animal friend to sit down, join them and maybe rest a while.

The robot cat dismounted his steed and waited for the creature to settle down before settling down himself against the large beast.

Sephiroth still didn’t know what kind of animal Nanaki was, but knew fully well that sometimes he behaved in a way that was _so_ human that it filled him with a similar feeling of uncanniness he got from staring at or interacting with any Cait Sith for far too long; having to stare at that way too happy furry face which elicited feelings of an approaching, terrible fate for more than necessary.

That still didn’t prevent Sephiroth from wanting to pet the friendly, intelligent beast and the cheerful robot cat.

(Maybe, again, he was spending too much time around AVALANCHE members that the need to touch others was growing on him. Or maybe he just spent too much time as a dog or other animals and had enjoyed all the petting a little too much.)

“Hope that lad comes home safe!”

 _You’re dealing with the beginning of the end there, cat. Quiet or you may attract a tragedy_.

Sephiroth thought he was becoming superstitious as well. He blamed it all on AVALANCHE, but in a good way, considering he was picking up some other social things he didn’t have before due to his growing up to be _The General,_ to push feelings away because those could be used against him in combat.

Shinra clearly wasn’t expecting Angeal and Genesis to appear, wasn’t expecting his refusal to just go and “fight the traitorous enemies to death”.

A familiar blond man walked into the bar, worn out from battle, unsteady legs not helping him stay standing for much longer without any help. He also seemed to be bleeding from a wound in his left arm.

Tifa and Cid dashed to help their friend into the bar properly before Cloud could trip over his own steps or something. Cait Sith had left to get some materia and medical supplies, being the best one with handling healing magic among them.

A robot that could clear wounds and use materia like that was an amazing invention.

Sephiroth attributed that ability to the presence of many of those cats being in entertainment facilities as park mascots or something of the sort. Most accidents could be prevented with proper safety measures, but in case something went wrong, the staff — or part of it, at the very least — needed to be properly trained in using healing materia and doing medical work. It was a smart move to make the cats the ones to have expertise in such a field, given those were everywhere over the parks, providing entertainment and… monitoring for any suspicious activities.

 _If you don’t have a dog, build a robot cat and make him part of your security force in the most discreet of the ways_.

Cid had gotten Cloud to sit down. Tifa had fallen into the task of helping Cait Sith clean their friend’s wounds before the cat could cast healing spells. Nanaki had approached with a concerned look, resting his head on Cloud’s lap and earning some petting for it.

Cloud was looking like Hel had run him over but was still trying to keep the worries the others had for him as down as possible.

Tifa was talking again, trying to convince Cloud to “go get him” (whoever that _him_ was) because they were “dealing not with just Deepground but also with Hojo and a Vincent who has no control over himself anymore,” ( _Wait, Hojo? What…? Hojo was supposed to be dead_ ) and they were “losing control over this entire situation.”

Cloud winced at the feeling of the cure hitting him, closing wounds until they were just thin, pink lines marking his skin.

“That... doesn’t sound like a smart plan, Teef.” He winced again at the cat’s treatment. Not that Cait Sith was a bad healer, far from that, Cloud just seemed to be a terrible patient, at least at the moment. “Deepground has access to whatever is left of Jenova’s cells… somehow. We can’t… ugh, what if he loses himself again?”

_Oh. Oh no._

“Wow, holy shit!” Yuffie had just come from upstairs, attracted by all the commotion, noticing the bad state of her friend and being shocked by it. And perhaps… she spent too much time near Cid for her own good. “Who did this to you? I’m gonna kick their ass!”

Tifa looked at her with a sad look in her eyes. Her expression seemed to communicate worlds of information to the young Wutaian.

“Oh no.”

Whatever plans of “kicking the culprit’s ass” died down very quickly.

* * *

“...roth.”

Cloud was looking at him with clear concern on his face, a certain fear making itself at home in the sky blue of his eyes. It filled Sephiroth with that curious warmth, which he promptly dismissed as being caused by his friend holding him like so and the clouds around them.

_Clouds?_

Did he unknowingly use magic during that whole ordeal? Was it out of instinct that he had also cocooned Cloud in those clouds (he tried to avoid thinking about the hilarious part of that and the very irony of him still being able to manipulate clouds of any sort now that he no longer had any ill intent) or due to the duty assigned to him? But more importantly: couldn’t the Planet have waited for a better time to throw such visions at him like that? Couldn’t it do so without such a strong headache to go along with it?

He couldn’t recall having one of those occur to him while wide awake like he’d been, either.

“...alright?” Cloud was speaking again, asking him if he was okay, while Sephiroth found it easier to get distracted by his own questions instead of focusing on him — who seemed scared for his sake at that point.

The Cloud in his vision had also been caring for him, refusing to bring him to potential danger, even if Jenova was supposed to be gone, her will crushed by Gaia when the Planet became his guardian and thus her reach through cells cut short for once and all. ( _Or was he concerned about having another ally become an enemy?_ ) That man had gone out for a friend who fought him instead; a friend who would play the duty of a grim reaper during the world’s end and claim the Gaia’s Champion soul in the process. He had returned more than physically wounded, it seemed, and that filled Sephiroth with rage.

Why wasn’t he there to protect Cloud? What had happened? Had he gone back to the Crater to seal himself until the time he was needed came or did Cloud simply send him back for some reason?

How could he keep Cloud safe when he wasn’t even there?

( _And father, what happened to you?_ )

“I… I had an epiphany…” He watched through long, heavy eyelashes as Cloud flinched a little at that, and saw his hand reaching out to massage his temple only to begin retreating. He caught it to keep it there, soothing the pain; as a proof that he wasn’t losing his sanity again.

 _Mother, let’s take back the Planet together. I… I had an epiphany_.

Cloud had never been there to hear such words, but from the fact the his memories got mixed with Zack’s, Sephiroth knew those exact words carried a negative connotation with them; knew they could awake up all the sort of bad memories.

“I saw an unpleasant vision…” Sephiroth groaned, leaning closer to Cloud for warmth and comfort, unsure if he should speak about the matters regarding the end of the world with him. As if talking attracted those, he had another one — a brief flash — that felt off. A certain small blond sitting on clouds by himself, sobbing. The place reminded him of what he had left at the Crater and yet… it seemed to be different. That weeping Cloud dressed himself in white robes decorated with delicate blue details, looking like the man he knew but at the same time looking like a broken version of him.

He wondered what that had to do with any of the visions he had before, where in the timeline of events that fit, why he was being plagued with watching the world end, Cloud suffer and other despair filled sights while he didn’t know what to do to prevent any of it. How much longer he’d have to keep seeing such things before he had an answer to his question of what he needed to do to stop all of that.

 _We don’t do anything_.

Damned little Cetra and her vagueness.

“I just… I just want you to be safe,” Sephiroth just noticed he had said that out loud, hoping that there wasn’t any other things he’d said without noticing in his haze that could be revealing in a manner or another.

He hadn’t noticed the tears, either, until Cloud was wiping them for him — that Cloud who looked out for everyone and made sure they were safe and sound — and he began sobbing in earnest; hadn’t noticed that he was letting their surroundings get even more crowded by clouds in his despair, so much that the place was beginning to look a lot like his clouded space in the Northern Crater.

“ _Please_ let me keep you safe,” it came out as a broken whisper.

“You’re doing a good job with that already, don’t worry,” Cloud replied, still keeping him close and either ignoring the clouds around them or too focused in offering comfort to care.

The negative side of him wondered if he really was.

* * *

The trip back was sort of quiet, partly due to the fact that Sephiroth was still being haunted by his headache — albeit to a lesser degree — and partly because it turned out to be short, with Cid being in the region and deciding to give them a ride (at least until Junon, where he had business, apparently).

Cloud ended up excusing himself to watch the sights passing below, not trusting himself to be inside where he’d feel the motions of the airship but not see any movement. Especially not after what happened back in the Forgotten Capital messing up with him as he thought of it.

_I just want you to be safe._

He didn’t quite understand what had happened exactly, only that he moved to help his friend who seemed to be going through the worst headache ever and a while after, Sephiroth came back to his senses mentioning a vision, not going into any details about it and almost pleading to be able to protect him.

_What in Hel did you see?_

Cloud rolled the red materia in his hands carefully, taking in its soft glow and wondering how long it had been like that, what could be the reason of its odd behavior; having no answer for his questions as much as he had no clue of what had brought Sephiroth to _tears_.

The thought of that made his stomach turn. Sephiroth didn’t plead or cry like that without a very strong reason for it. He didn’t simply look like one had smashed his wing if the situation wasn’t a serious one. And from them having been enemies once and then slowly becoming friendly with one another, Sephiroth knew very well the things he could protect himself against and the things he wouldn’t stand a chance against if he faced them; the things which required group effort from AVALANCHE for them all to stand a solid chance, the things he could face alone.

Cloud was an enhanced fighter and, along with the others, had almost taken down Sephiroth in his godly form before some divine intervention changed everything.

He wanted to throw up.

(The combination of motion sickness and extreme concern bordering on anxiety was absolutely awful.)

His thoughts drifted to the earthquakes they had felt, wondering what was the chance of those being related to any of this; thought of the version of himself who had given him that mysterious materia with such a vague explanation about it.

_You’re going to save him…_

He’d been told to keep that materia away from Sephiroth; thought that meant just to keep him from touching it, then cursed himself quietly imagining whether or not just having it around was having any effect on his friend, causing him pain and terrible visions… or nightmares. It made him wonder if that time Sephiroth had a terrible dream after that awkward conversation fit better under the “weird coincidence” or the “it’s your fault for carrying that materia around, you fool” category; made him wonder if Sephiroth had other visions, wonder about what he could’ve seen.

Gaia, he wanted to be back home so he could dash to Reeve, ask him to keep some secrets and ask away all the questions that were bothering him.

But more than anything, at the moment… he _really_ wanted to throw up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- "[...] his garden of unwanted memories." A reference (although a small one) to a doujinshi by Nightflight called Memory Garden, which happens to be Dissidia based (and boy, Dissidia has something so very much like time travel with the cycle reset mechanic going on there...)
> 
> \- The beginning of the conversation between Aerith and Sephiroth is a reference to the events in the beginning of Dirge of Cerberus
> 
> \- The fact that Sephiroth has no canon anniversary, that the only info about his age is that he's "approximately" 20/27 in CC/OG annoys me to no end. So I'm going with my usual headcanon here that he shares his birthday month with Vincent (which happens to be the same month in which Nibelheim burned down) and that he's a Scorpio
> 
> \- Also Cloud has two birthdays (why does he have two and Sephiroth has none... how does that make any sense?) so I'm just picking the first of them
> 
> \- In Final Fantasy Record Keeper, the icon (and animation) for Meteor makes those look like flying meatballs
> 
> \- In one of the Compilation novels (can't recall which) Elmyra becomes a client of Cloud's when she asks him to deliver a bouquet to the Forgotten Capital, some time before AC happens (It doesn't trigger a good response, obviously)
> 
> \- "[...] whether those cats shared the same mind or were aware of what the other cats were experiencing" The moogles in Mobius Final Fantasy all share a common mind but being in different bodies, they have different experiences and identities as well
> 
> \- The bit about Cait Sith having a way too happy face that makes one feel like a terrible fate is approaching is a quite discreet reference to the Happy Mask Salesman in Majora's Mask, due to both of them having way too happy faces and (usually) closed eyes, the first Cait Sith meeting a terrible fate in the Temple of the Ancients, HMS' popular quote of "You've met with a terrible fate, haven't you?" (But with the HMS being way more Uncanny Valley material than Cait Sith, even with the latter being a robot)
> 
> \- Disclaimer: I do love Cait Sith a lot, actually


	5. Of Revelations And Reminiscence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shapeshifter and a chocobo-looking man walk into a bar...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's update is brought to you by "that feeling of when you have so much planned for a chapter you have to break it down into two chapters"™, good soups that make my winter better and that one big doggo which vanishes into the mist and howls his lonely song into the wind during a night of a full, silver moon.
> 
> An interesting twist (or my attempt at being interesting that I hope is interesting xP) is to come in the transition from the next chapter to chapter 7, by the way!
> 
> (Now that I think of it, it's such a fitting chapter number to place that twist on... hm...)
> 
> Also, Zerith happens to be a thing here, albeit brief.

“Y’know, I think you should’ve just told him,” the voice behind her drove Aerith’s attention away from her flowers, away from her musings once again but not from her worries, even if that was a voice which usually brought with it happiness, safety and oh, so many, many dreams.

(Of blue skies which weren’t scary anymore.)

She had told him of the brief conversation she had with Sephiroth, briefed him on the things she wished she could’ve told him but couldn’t both due to her time among the living being short and because of the timing not being right. Other than a sound or another, little “Hmm”s here and there, Zack had listened to her quietly, with an interest she could sense, even as she had her eyes on the flowers. The wait for his reply had her getting distracted by her thoughts again, as she recounted those events.

“He’s not ready yet, Zack.”

“Uh… didn’t he jump out of a mountain to save Cloud?”

 _Zack Fair, with the eternal restlessness of a puppy, had been watching the living once again_.

Aerith giggled, “I guess he did, yes. But in his heart… what I felt from being around him is that he’s still questioning many things, maybe blaming himself for many more,” she picked up a flower, standing and turning to her companion to put it behind his ear, “still readjusting to living life without being a threat to anyone. He’s ready to jump out of cliffs for Cloud if it means keeping him alive and safe, because that’s the duty the Planet assigned him, but…” She drifted off, her hand absentmindedly caressing his cheek in a fond gesture.

Every time something good happened to Cloud, usually something bad followed, in a way or another.

Even if they had issues to deal with, Cloud had not only taken Sephiroth as a friend but also stated it out loud, confirmed the fact for that man who didn’t live his life in a more conventional way until recently; had trusted Sephiroth to travel with him to places full of the worst memories one could have — awful memories that existed because of the man himself.

More than anything, Cloud Strife had made a new friend out of an old enemy. (Who once upon a time had been an idol on a silver pedestal). One he was _happy_ to have around despite everything.

It was but cruel that Gaia wanted to take that away from her friend. The way such a thing was supposed to happen didn’t help in the slightest; it’d only bring up shadows of past traumas and had the potential to create new ones. She didn’t think Cloud to be ready for that yet, even if it had been months since the Meteor crisis was averted. And yet…

_Legend shall speak of sacrifice at the world’s end._

Aerith was pulled away from her reverie by Zack covering her hand with his own. Granted, they were both dead and her spirit was resilient, but that couldn’t prevent the gentleness on his part; not out of concern for any fragility, just the way one would treat something or someone precious to them.

It made her feel like falling in love again; the tenderness of the gesture. Like a fifteen year old girl who had just witnessed a guy fall out of the sky, through the roof of the old church she liked to visit.

She smiled at him a little sad because of nostalgia and her worries about the current events.

“I don’t think Sephiroth is ready to put Cloud through that kind of suffering. Not yet, at least. And Cloud… is even less ready for what he needs to do.”

“They sure have a test on their hands, huh…” Zack haired man mused aloud.

“They do, yes. That’s why it’s not time yet to say too much.”

“I still think you should've told him anyway,” he let go of her hand to pull her into a proper, much needed embrace, which she promptly sunk into “So he can prepare better for when the time comes.”

“Nah,” the nervous giggle escaped her, making something in him resonate, “he’s already been contaminated by the AVALANCHE’s 'it’s okay to show your feelings and tell your secrets, we’ll not judge you for it’ thing. I don’t think he knows yet what a lot of his feelings are, though. Poor thing.”

“Well, he was groomed to be the ultimate SOLDIER, after all. He had friends he liked destroying the heck out of Training Rooms with and who looked after one another before the incident, but that’s all there is to that, I think. War kept him busy ever since he was a teenager or something, so I don’t think he had any time to… y’know…”

Aerith looked up at him with a brief grin, but still pitying Sephiroth with his way too complicated life.

“Be a silly kid and fall in love?” She suggested.

Zack hummed in agreement.

“Fall through a roof and find an angel, maybe,” he laughed at the thought of Sephiroth on the floor of some stranger's house, waking up to actually be stunned by the sight of said stranger, who maybe would be blond with blue eyes. Because reasons.

He couldn’t help but think that Shinra should’ve encouraged Sephiroth to find someone, no matter whether romance and other things would come into action with that or not, — after all, there was nothing wrong with not wishing or having the need for that kind of relationship — who wouldn’t be involved in the war. They could’ve kept the person as safe as possible and given another reason for Sephiroth to fight and return alive.

But they could also have used said person to bribe Sephiroth into staying in the company. After all, considering Shinra’s own interests, they were more of an enemy than an ally, even when one was on their side.

Maybe that (among the other things that weren’t pleasant to think about) only contributed for Sephiroth’s social isolation — aside from Angeal and Genesis, of course, and his brief time around Zack, who just happened to befriend everyone he met.

Aerith tucked her head under his chin.

“He’s more like the kind of guy who sits on clouds with one, to be honest,” she whispered “But can you imagine the reverse? Someone falling through his roof?”

“Does that involve flowers? Because I can’t imagine Sephiroth out of all people being into gardening.”

 _Reading? Maybe. The healthy kind of the habit, though, not the one that kept one on a basement for an entire week and that ended with destruction and a lot of casualties_.

“Really? Because I think he’s more than suited to that.”

“Well, who am I to argue with the flower specialist?” Zack chuckled, earning a similar reaction from her.

That talk of flowers made her wonder something, though, about the other person Zack knew who liked gardening and who she was aware of. She respected his decisions in life but felt sorry for him nonetheless, considering the hardships he went through. Felt sorry that they had only met after they were both dead because he was certainly a good person. Also felt sorry that she hadn’t seen him in such a long time, but understood he had something of his own to accomplish in the big scheme of things and that there was the chance that, after that something was dealt with, he would simply choose to rest among the other souls for eternity. In any case, she chose to ask.

“By the way… did you find your friend while I was gone?”

“Not at all. But if he’s gone it’s for a good reason, right? So I’m not worried,” he sighed, “I just miss him.”

“I think… he left to prepare the Messenger. For when the right time comes.”

 _The Messenger, huh?_ Zack thought, quite amused at that. _Angeal’s definitely not coming back, then_.

* * *

Tifa poured a drink for Vincent while waiting for those two to show up, having received a message from Cloud some time after lunch that they met up with Cid and should be arriving sooner than expected, which meant a few hours until Junon aboard of an airship and a while longer from there to Midgar.

Vincent had gone out to see Lucrecia again, it seemed. He’d entered Seventh Heaven, greeted Tifa politely and asked for wine, without any other word in between, looking as if a part of him was missing and couldn't be found. Maybe blaming himself for what he didn’t know that would happen back then, even.

She wished Yuffie, Reeve and Cid were there, to complete that unlikely quartet of theirs and try to offer proper comfort, as she didn't know herself what to do other than trying to engage in distractive small talk — Vincent wasn’t much talkative, especially at the moment and she was respectful of that — and being there as a positive presence for him. (Even if just that was already better than having Vincent be all by himself somewhere else.) And of course, pouring a drink for a friend who wanted one. It reminded her of the fact that the former Turk couldn't get drunk because of who he was and what he had within him. He could down the red liquid as if it was water if he wanted to, which was a bit scary in her honest opinion. Cid called it “bullshit” once and challenged him to a drinking game, which lasted longer than expected before the pilot was falling asleep out of drunkenness and Vincent, still holding his liquor rather well as he’d been doing since they started drinking, stopped to check on their friend with very discreet concern coloring his expression.

(Caring, even if he pretended he didn’t. Reeve liked to tease him about that.)

The masking of emotions ran in the family, but Tifa wasn’t looking forward to a family reunion in her bar any time soon. Sephiroth looked like his actual mother enough to be a concerning sight.

She caught herself sending out a message simply warning that Vincent had a meeting with _her_ , hoping that would be enough of a hint for them to avoid the front door.

Around ten minutes later she heard the roar of a motorcycle outside. A while after, she heard the backdoor open and close and excused herself to get both of them some food, hoping the now turned on radio would be enough distraction from Vincent’s issues with his past; that he’d stay awhile longer before leaving to… somewhere. She knew he'd been living near the WRO’s headquarters or at least not that far, if him seeing Reeve quite often and working with the organization was any indication, but he still had that ring of mystery about him.

A familiar short man with spiked blond hair and a tall man with long silver strands had walked in.

Cloud was questioning something among the lines of how Sephiroth could even fall asleep on their way back when Tifa caught sight of them. He sounded amused at the observation he was making, the question he was throwing at Sephiroth, who simply covered his mouth to yawn. The sleepiness had yet to wear off, it seemed, by the way he seemed to be struggling to keep his eyes open. But he still had the energy to smile at him as if Cloud’s amusement did wonders for him.

If anything, Sephiroth seemed more expressive than usual when he was drowsy like that, relaxed from sleep and not yet fully back from the land of dreams.

“Your hair makes a very comfortable nest,” he teased in response, even more amused somehow.

Tifa couldn’t miss that look he directed at her friend, — even if brief and affected by his state, most likely — so full of… fondness it made her mind go to many places.

There was a black feather on Cloud’s hair, quite noticeable against the soft, blond spikes, adding further explanation to Cloud’s statement. Especially given they returned on his motorcycle.

 _Shapeshifters and their ability to be anything_.

“You’ll make him become a chocobo one of these days,” she chuckled, drawing their attention to her, “you’re already covering him in feathers.”

“What, this?” Sephiroth picked up the feather in question, properly giving it to Cloud so he could do whatever he wished with it… which included becoming a chocobo, somehow. Cloud shot him a confused look. “I’ll have to shed a lot more feathers than that to cover him enough for him to become a _proper_ chocobo, Tifa.”

“He needs to 'wark’, too,” She added, agreeing. It earned her a _look_ from her friend.

“Hey! I’m right here, you two!” Cloud protested.

“We see you, local chocobo,” Sephiroth answered with such a smile to go with the remark that if those were different times, Cloud would’ve jumped on him with a Buster Sword on his hands, ready for a fight, “And you look like you need to take a bath and go to bed, so,” he tapped on Cloud’s back gently, wanting to direct him to the nearby staircase, “upstairs with you.”

Cloud tried to convince himself that he was only obeying and going upstairs because there was truth in those words and he was really tired from the entire trip and the turbulences attached to it. Especially the turbulence of it all, which he didn’t have the mind to think about at the moment.

Before he disappeared upstairs, Sephiroth asked him whether or not he’d like to have food brought up to his room and he agreed to it, still trying to put certain concerns aside.

 _Don’t think about Sephiroth wanting to protect you, don’t think about Sephiroth wanting to protect you, don’t think about those odd earthquakes, don’t think about that materia, don’t_ …

Once he was one floor above but still close enough, he accidentally overheard Tifa asking Sephiroth about their trip. He didn’t imagine Sephiroth would brief her in the concerning details to avoid creating worry, but oh, if only she knew about it all…

* * *

“Alright, but just how tired do you have to be to fall asleep on a moving motorcycle?” Tifa ended up asking after his retelling of the events, trying to shake off the feeling that something had happened, trying to pretend she didn’t see Sephiroth looking vaguely concerned for a brief moment after Cloud had left, and most importantly, focusing on preparing a quick something for herself and for Vincent as well. “I mean, yeah, I guess we all learned to sleep anywhere out of need, but…”

“Hn, exhausted. But then again, it was a long trip.”

He might have turned his attention fully to what he was cooking, but there it was again, that subtle look full of worry, as if there was more to that he wasn’t telling for some reason. Tifa wondered if something happened in those places, so full of unrequited memories which blossomed even when one tried to cut them down. She really hoped it were just bad memories from long gone times and not… a sign that something bad had or would happen.

“How’s he? My father, that is,” Sephiroth asked, absentmindedly.

“Really upset. Not enough to isolate himself somewhere, but enough to come here for drinks and to be quieter than normal,” Tifa sighed, “It’s quite sad… he keeps blaming himself for those things he didn’t know that could happen…”

“When you get in your head that you’re at fault for something, it’s quite difficult to start thinking otherwise,” he added, with a sigh of his own, taking a moment to prove what he was cooking. It needed just a little more seasoning, it seemed.

“Mhmm.”

And then Tifa just didn’t quite know whether all of his concern was in regards to Vincent or if there was _really_ something else that happened during the trip to put him in such a mood. She wanted to approach him on the matter, but also wanted to respect his privacy in the case it was something he didn’t want to share. It made her feel conflicted.

“Could you ask him to stay? He can sleep in my room,” he suggested, which implied Sephiroth would either not sleep or use the only other room with a spare bed… which happened to be Cloud’s — The building used to be a small inn at some point in the past and they never knew what to do with that extra bed when choosing rooms, anyway. “I just… I don't want him to leave tonight if he came here while in such a state.”

A little more and that worry would take on a physical form. Or two. Or three. Probably three, though. Enough for the kind of restlessness that had him worn down to the point of sleeping on his way back; a number with a ring to it that seemed right.

“Sure.”

As she finished her quick dish and left the kitchen, Tifa could swear she heard Sephiroth sigh, perhaps out of worry and wondered once more what could’ve happened to leave him in such a state.

* * *

The smell of soup that reached Cloud a little while after he took his shower brought him traces of memories from times long lost, of when he was just a simple country boy in a backwater town near the mountains, being blamed by everyone, ending up in fights constantly and generally not having any friends… but having an amazing mom, nonetheless.

With Nibelheim being the cold place it was, she’d cook all kinds of dishes that helped with keeping them warm in both the physical and spiritual sense, with her best one being stew. However, she also used to make some quick soups he loved and the smell reaching his bedroom was just like one of them… if his memory wasn’t playing tricks on him, that was. It was so Nibelan that it hurt a little to think about, especially when Sephiroth was the one knocking on his door and asking for permission before entering his room with the dish.

He didn’t want to think about the things the had lost in the past — nor how he had lost them — and ruin a potentially pleasant meal. (Really, Sephiroth had even brought a small bowl of little toasts with him to go along with it. It was just perfect.)

“Thank you,” he said, carefully taking his soup and going for those, upon noticing the extra bowl “Oh… do you want the toasts as well?”

“No, it’s fine. You can have all of them.” It wasn’t as if he didn’t like those, but he heard things about Cloud liking them and didn’t mind not having any that night. If Cloud thanking him again was enough indication, he certainly appreciated the gesture.

Sephiroth made himself comfortable on the spare bed nearby and, taking care not to burn himself, started having his soup.

“Cait Sith came by while I was cooking. I was told Reeve sent some of his people to investigate those earthquakes, but they came back empty handed,” he paused for a spoonful of the warm meal, “So, naturally, Rufus sent out his Turks.”

(Cait Sith — or rather, Reeve — had also managed to get Vincent to stay the night, somehow, by humoring him and offering the opportunity to play card games with him. Or at least it was what Tifa told him. Sephiroth wondered if card games had always been a preferred pastime among Turks, what with Reno, Rude and Elena playing those whenever they dropped by. Initially coming to check if the rumors about him were true, then realizing he posed no threat anymore, they ended up staying as regular customers as time went. Tseng was never with them for some reason, probably due to his duty or — although it was mere supposition — Rufus’ favoritism towards the Turk; his wish to keep him around.)

“And do we have any news on that?”

“Nothing so far. It's as if the Planet decided out of nowhere earthquakes should be a thing in that region,” he mused on whether or not he’d find answers if he reached out to the Lifestream. Probably not.

Cloud sighed, letting the conversation wander into silence for a moment, while he enjoyed his dinner (and very much so). But that didn’t last for much longer anyway as he couldn’t keep himself from wondering.

“Hel… How and when did you learn to make Nibelan soup this good?”

Sephiroth smirked, practically knowing that his answer had the potential of leading the conversation into the usual implications that he was showing off. It was but a gentle tease, he knew, and it made him wonder why exactly such exchanges were as amusing as they were.

“I stole Tifa’s cookbook for a quick recipe after you left, then adapted it a little.” Everyone else but Vincent — who was enhanced albeit in a different way — would probably complain about how it probably tasted almost too bland, being unable to pick up the flavors the way they did (with everything made by others seeming to be quite strong in taste unless one had adapted to that).

“You mean to say you never made this soup before, got experimental with the recipe and it came out amazing? Boom? Just like that?” Sephiroth just nodded casually, fueling Cloud’s awe further, “Gaia, if only they had you taste test the cadet’s menu back then…”

“They did,” the taller man chuckled, “Only they didn’t make that cafeteria’s menu with the infantry in mind. They focused their efforts in giving those who were just joining SOLDIER a good meal and had the rest of you suffer through almost tasteless food.”

Cloud looked at him like he had opened a drawer and pulled an adamantaimai out of it, and so, he couldn’t help but laugh at the his reaction.

“I’m sorry,” he let out, still trying to control himself, “I’m the cause of yet another kind of despair you had to face, even if indirectly.”

“Well, we could just blame Shinra for not caring that much about their cadets.” Cloud shrugged.

“Or that, yes.”

After all, Shinra cared so little about their men in the lowest of the ranks that they didn’t mind letting some of them be used as material for whatever insane experiment the Science Department had in mind. He avoided thinking about it, especially as that was how Cloud ended up becoming enhanced in the end. The fact that Zack was also submitted to said experiments without any thought about his rank made fear pool in his gut, even if the risks of him becoming some sort of lab rat once more were null.

Sephiroth was thankful Hojo was dead… at least as far as he knew.

“Back in Nibelheim, when I was a kid, we used to have soups like this a lot at home,” Cloud said after a while, “And a lot of zuu stew, which was my favorite thing to eat back then.”

That recollection… it seemed like a good one, free from the usual tainted memories that usually resurfaced whenever Nibelheim was mentioned by either of them. It probably told endless tales of times before the despair, and colored Cloud's face with an expression that seemed the perfect combination of joy and nostalgia.

Sephiroth had that foreign feeling take over him again. It pained him due to the unfamiliarity of it and yet, at the same time… he craved more of that unknown territory his emotions decided to step into, in hopes that by basking in it he could get a hint to understand what it was, exactly.

(He wondered if part of that could be anxiety; an intense fear of seeing Cloud’s happiness disappear because of him saying the wrong thing by accident, making his heart race like that. Or worry because of what he saw in his visions that could happen. It made sense, considering what Cloud had gone through because of him and that it was normal for friends to worry about each other's well-being.)

 _Oh, be still, my anxious heart_.

“If only I knew… we could’ve hunted a zuu while we were there,” he offered, a little regretful.

“True. Or on our way back, as we had a High _wind_ with us.”

Sephiroth simply stared at him, making the connection and trying — though without success — to keep himself from laughing. Cid did justice to his name, given the way he could jump; the way he seemed to be at home when he was aboard of an airship. _Zuus were weak against strong winds_. It was such an obvious, bad pun and yet he couldn’t help himself.

He was only thankful he didn’t have soup in his mouth at the moment.

“You can say it was a _mist_ opportunity, y’know? Because _Nibel_ heim,” Cloud added, then laughed at his own terrible joke. Sephiroth was completely torn between wanting to throw him out of the window and laughing some more about (possibly more of) that kind of thing. He decided to try a joke of his own.

“Well, it wasn't as if the weather helped, anyway. It was _cloudy_ with a chance of disaster.”

The way Cloud looked when he was laughing so freely like that made something in his stomach dance. He attributed it to the troubles that had been plaguing him, trying to dismiss it so he could finish his dinner and then leave to take a shower before bed. He needed to sleep off the occurrences of that trip and, hopefully, don’t have any visions — the latter being wishful thinking, of course, as he had no control over such a thing.

“Speaking of that… how’s your wing?”

It wasn’t really necessary to let it out to check, as he felt it during the time he spent as a crow on their way back; the bothersome itching where he missed feathers, where they were trying to regrow faster than they should due to the odd nature of that wing and his enhancements, bothering him. And yet, he felt comfortable in doing so, maybe if only to shut down any worries Cloud could have about it. Once it was stretched out, Sephiroth realized something odd about it.

Some of the pin feathers seemed to be… blue? A little close to violet, maybe indigo, but nonetheless contrasting against the black of his regular feathers. He wondered at how that would look like once they unfurled, but found the combination of colors quite alluring even then.

“The feathers I lost are… regrowing. But not all in their original black,” he said, sounding somewhat amused at that fact, “They’re near violet.”

The reason for that intrigued him, however. It couldn’t be related to his visions, could it? An indication that the right time was drawing in closer… Sephiroth tried to set aside the implications of the world’s end being a possibility in the near future, especially considering his lack of information on what would have to be done by then. It simply wouldn't do to think of such things at the moment, given his inability to do something about that.

The other only think he could think of was the way birds changed feathers when preparing for a mating season. But… just having a wing didn’t make one a proper bird, so that concept couldn’t possibly apply to him. Hm.

“I think violet suits you,” Cloud offered with a smile and, somehow, that was suddenly all that mattered.

Sephiroth smiled rather sweetly in return before turning his attention back to his almost finished meal. Which… was definitely a bad idea as he started thinking about his troubles again. What if neither of them could get to enjoy the sight of unfurled, almost violet feathers? What if the right time to act came too soon? What if they failed in doing whatever was needed of them by then?

He got so caught up in those thoughts again, the memories of those visions he had alarming him, that he didn’t even notice the clear signs of worry he was giving off.

“I’ll go take a shower,” he said, putting his empty bowl aside, “Father will stay for the night and I don’t want to bother him while I get fresh clothes.” At the mention of Vincent, he seemed to grow more worried, but that didn’t seem to be the main focus of his concern. Sephiroth stood up to leave, that wing of his still out, in a resting position behind him — notably, the feathers were ruffled, matching the tension taking over him.

Cloud had a theory about that. One that reminded him of what happened in that trip and that made his stomach turn, made the questions he had surface again in a way he couldn’t stand anymore. He had to do something about it, at least to know what all that concern was about if he couldn't stop it.

Sephiroth was reaching for the door when he felt the Cloud’s hand getting a hold of his other wrist and froze right where he was. While he could free himself with ease, the fact that it would bring up an awkward mood prevented him from doing so.

“What’s worrying you?” The difficult question came, quickly. He refused to turn around, then.

“I can’t say.”

“Is this... about the vision you had?” Cloud tried, as gentle as he could.

Sephiroth hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

“Could you tell me what you saw?”

“No.” He moved as if he was going to break free and leave, only to stay where he was instead.

“Why?”

“It’ll bring you unnecessary suffering.” And that was something he longed to avoid if possible, for as long as he was allowed to.

Cloud’s hand slowly slided down to hold his own, gently, but still not forcing him to turn around. A sigh escaped him, voice coming down to almost a whisper when he spoke.

“Seeing you so worried is already giving me despair. And I understand if you don't want to say it but…” Cloud took a deep breath  “I wanna help you.”

“Cloud…”

“You said you wanted to keep me safe, right? I don't know from what it is, but I want you to be safe, too.”

Sephiroth felt a strange relief wash over him and steal away a sigh out of him for some reason. And yet, concern remained regarding Cloud, whose hand was warm and smaller than his, renewing his wish to protect him. He wondered if something similar to that — the way Cloud looked after everyone — strengthened whatever motivation others had that drove them to protect him.

He squeezed the Cloud’s hand before turning around to face him, hiding his wing as he did, in one smooth movement.

 _Maybe I’m really a show-off_.

“Do you really wish to know?”

Cloud nodded once, expression serious but with clear worry accompanying it. Well, that shower could wait for the time being.

“Very well, then. But I’ll need you to promise me three things.” For some unexplained reason, such a number of things to ask sounded about right. “I won’t, however, hold any of it against you if you fail to keep them.”

“Ask away,” Cloud shrugged.

“First, what I reveal to you shall not leave these walls, as there’s nothing anyone can do about it right now and, depending on what happens, it might not even happen, so there might be no need for anybody to know. Second, I don’t hold much information on this so promise to understand that I'm unable to answer certain questions. And,” he took in a deep breath, “Last but not least: do not despair. Understood?”

There was something funny about Sephiroth telling him not to despair, even after so long since the time he was likely to wish despair upon him and somehow, the way he spoke reminded Cloud of the fact that his friend had been a general once. But even so, those were simple terms he could agree with.

“Understood,” he simply said with a nod, and so, with three simple promises, both men went to sit down on one of the beds.

It was just then that Sephiroth came to realize he didn’t know where to start with that matter. He sighed, searching for words, but also finding questions he had himself that he wanted to ignore for the moment to keep himself from diving into a pool of curiosity.

“The vision I had…” he started, trying to avoid hesitation but failing, “...It wasn’t the first one. And I doubt it’ll be the last.”

“So… when did they start?” Cloud wondered.

“That one time before we agreed not to bring up anything from the past abruptly like that, when you told you were… a fan, and I ended up sleeping as a dog because we only had one bed at our disposal. The ‘terrible dream’ I had was the first one.”

He heard Cloud mutter a quiet “Gaia” that would’ve been missed if it wasn't for his enhancements. (Unknown to him, what he said made Cloud question himself again on whether or not just having the materia around had something to do with it and also made the shorter man glad they weren’t aboard some kind of vehicle at the moment.) Sephiroth continued, then.

“I was told by the Planet to protect you and took what I saw as a possible consequence of not doing so or failing.”

“Oh, so that's why you decided to follow me back then?”

Sephiroth nodded.

“Yes, at least at first. It turns out you’re a really pleasant person to have around, someone easy to talk to despite the past.” Even sat side by side and with the his bangs hiding his face a little, it was possible to see the hint of a smile there, briefly. “And that… I think it makes me afraid of failing. Maybe it’s meant to be so I can ensure things will go as planned, but…”

He sighed. The pressure that came along with his task and from those visions was overwhelming, to say the least. A warm hand took a hold of his own in an attempt on Cloud’s part at being comforting; something Sephiroth appreciated.

“Would you mind if I _showed_ you instead of telling what I saw? I’d rather not put you through the distress of seeing such things and I understand if doing that reminds you of… certain aspects of the past,” as he said it, he felt Cloud’s hand tighten around his own just slightly as if in confirmation of that observation, “but putting it fully into words… I don’t know if it’s something I can do.”

“Do it,” Cloud decided, maybe too fast for his own good, “If you notice something off afterwards… just stay with me?”

Sephiroth hummed an agreement before closing his eyes and concentrating.

* * *

In another universe, Cloud was allowed to watch the end of that world he had once fought so vehemently to prevent. Though a vision offered to him, he witnessed the fall of many people he’d met; people he helped during his long journey around the world while chasing after Sephiroth, people he didn’t know but who could possibly be those affected by AVALANCHE’s actions. People whose untold stories were ending there to join the flow of the Lifestream.

It didn’t seem as if it was due to any lack of care or only due to the exploitation of the Planet’s life force by mako reactors from the past, however. Instead, it seemed to be caused by something more complex, maybe many events congregating into a single result. He couldn’t exactly tell, as he had only fragments to work with.

Regardless of anything, Vincent seemed to play a part in it, even if it was involuntary.

As Cloud watched familiar faces filled with worry, heard himself refuse certain suggestions and then saw the skies seemingly mock them with a lifeless void as the fire consumed everything one could touch, he saw a shadow among the flames, staring at him with cold blue eyes from a distance; almost entirely black save for a slightly hint of golden on the muzzle.

After what seemed to be an eternity, the wolf turned its back on him and disappeared, as if it was just smoke dissipating into the wind; a puff of breath during a cold day.

For the briefest of the moments as it left, Cloud thought it seemed sad.

* * *

The fact that their connection was cut off abruptly wasn’t the surprising part of it. Sephiroth was aware that what he was doing — reaching out for the bits of Lifestream in another, living person to be able to show those visions — had its differences compared to reaching out certain alien-based traces for mind control. It should be more comfortable, for one, given that not only he had permission and the fact that he wasn’t trying to convert Cloud into a mindless puppet. But it was also more complicated, as he wasn’t simply imposing his will upon another being.

(And Cloud’s mind had strengthened quite considerably since _those_ times, anyway.)

What was surprising was the flash of a vision he got after the connection was interrupted, with bright blue eyes staring straight at him; a short blond man in white robes trying to keep a cold expression but a quivering lip and tears pooling in his eyes betraying that very intention.

Masamune was pushed in deeper, but not into that Cloud, no. He was instead handling it, putting effort in impaling whoever it was on the other end of the blade.

(The sounds coming from the unseen figure in such a scenario were painfully _familiar_ , Sephiroth thought.)

After that, as that little shard of a vision faded away, Sephiroth opened his eyes with a sharp gasp. His chest hurt for some reason, and he guessed it was from the effort of sharing his visions of the world’s end — he kept the first flash he had out of such showcase and was ready to hide the other as well, at least for the time being, until he could make sense out of it.

“What… what in Hel’s name…?” Cloud started.

“Are you... alright?” Sephiroth was panting.

“No,” he said, shaking his head, “Gaia… I just saw myself... die. What the fuck.” Also the end of the world, but having faced that situation regarding Meteor before made that a bit less strange to deal with than seeing himself being sent to the Lifestream like that. But even with that and the events that led him to the Northern Crater — Hel, even everything after — it was still just that; a bit less strange but still intensely odd. “You okay?”

“Absolutely not. I’ll be, however… or so I think.”

Cloud hummed, understanding.

“So... the world as we know it could end…” He tried, getting Sephiroth’s full attention, “Then we all die and the Planet… uh, finds non-Jenova ways to send everyone into the cosmos?”

“That’s correct… But as you saw, I didn't see the trigger point of it. Something happens to my father that steals his control, you refuse to get my help in fear it’ll make everything worse, then… that… it happens…”

He shut his eyes as he saw that flash again, which only served to knock the air out of his lungs; to make the pain he felt in his chest even worse. His nose started to bleed and that didn’t go unnoticed, of course.

“Fuck.” Cloud rushed to grab some tissues. And materia. Sephiroth felt his surroundings spin, but it wasn't so bad that he couldn’t notice a Cure being cast after the blood was cleaned; the feeling of it not exactly eliminating the ache in his chest but still soothing enough to bring some degree of relief.

He kept his eyes shut (opening them had proved to be a really bad idea) and with a groan let himself drop down onto the bed.

“These damned visions…” He murmured.

“You had another one? Now?” Cloud asked, surprise clear in his voice.

“Mhmm. The combined effort of… showing you what I saw and getting something new… then getting it again shortly after…” That definitely didn’t do him any good, for sure. “Everything is spinning…”

“Hold on, let me do something to help.”

Cloud carefully guided him into a more comfortable position before leaving to turn off the lights and grab a pillow for himself. As soon as he settled down, Sephiroth turned to hide his face against his chest, hugging him in the process. Cloud felt like an oversized teddy bear in that position, but had no complaints about it as it felt comfortable in its own way. He simply pulled the covers over them and ran his fingers through silver strands of hair gently for a long moment.

“So what do we do to avoid that?” He whispered at last.

“I was told… we don’t do anything. For the time being, at least.” Sephiroth sighed. “When the time comes, I’ll be of assistance to you and you’ll do what’s needed.”

It was still not a very smart plan, in his mind.

“Why me, Seph?” It came out quietly and unsure. “Out of all the people in this Planet… Why is it always me?”

He chanced a look at Cloud, if only briefly, as that proximity had him feeling strange again. (Not exactly bad, however. Simply a feeling yet undefined.) The bright blue eyes with that mako glow were still burned into his mind as he hid his face against Cloud’s chest again and hugged him tighter.

“Why anyone, really?” He chuckled, nervously “We aren’t born hoping to be gods or ‘chosen ones’ tasked with preventing the world’s end, after all. It could’ve been someone else, anyone else and we’d be asking ‘why them’ if it was someone we knew.” After a brief pause, he tried something if only to distract both of them from such worries. “Say, how would you feel if you knew the fate of the entire world depended on whether or not Tifa sells a drink made out of the most expensive liquor of the house, the one she keeps hidden just behind the counter that no one knows about?”

Due to their proximity, when Cloud laughed, it rocked both of them gently, the feeling and the sound of it warming him up just like a sunny day. It seemed to be a contagious mood, as Sephiroth caught himself smiling and unable to stop.

“You tell me the world could end and tell me where Tifa hides her expensive liquor. Are you suggesting we should get drunk if all else fails, Sephiroth?” He asked, still laughing a little.

“I don’t think we’re able to. But it could be worth a try, don’t you think?” If they weren’t getting drunk at least they could appreciate a nice drink, after all.

“Gaia, I’m gonna push you out of the bed.”

“Oh no, you won’t.”

It was Sephiroth’s turn to laugh. That one night before they had agreed not to discuss the past, Cloud had also threatened to push him out of a bed, even if they didn’t really share one at the time. It made him feel oddly nostalgic, that. And grateful, too, for every strange little thing the Planet had done that led up to that moment, no matter if it was good or bad.

They had come a long way since then, he realized.

“Cloud?” He looked up again, trying to ignore that odd fluttering in his chest as he caught sight of glowing sky blue eyes.

“Hm?”

“Happy birthday.” He hid his face again and simply breathed for a moment. For some reason, Cloud smelled like… safety. “I’ll get you something nice tomorrow and we’re going to prevent the world’s end.”

Sephiroth forced himself to sound confident about it despite his tiredness, but in fact, he was still nervous about the implications behind all of that. The way Cloud chuckled a little after that, trying and failing to suppress a certain fear, didn’t help at all. If anything, it made him feel somewhat bad that while sharing those things apparently lifted some weight off him, they also left worry in their awakening. He wanted to apologize for that, but didn’t want to make the mood worse.

On another hand, for Cloud, it had been somewhere around a year since the time he returned to Midgar and embarked on a journey to prevent a threat to the Planet’s safety from coming true. He wondered if that would be his life now, preventing the world from collapsing once a year. Strife was his last name, sure, but that was something he wasn’t sure he could do on a regular basis.

 _Oh Gaia, so much for wishing a simple life_.

“You don’t need to buy me anything,” he whispered, “I just want a big cake.”

“Hnn… I’ll keep that in mind,” Sephiroth answered, sounding absolutely ready to fall asleep at any given moment then.

Cloud sensed that it’d be a troublesome rest for both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The wolf isn't Zack, by the way, in case things got confusing or something.


	6. That Which Is Stolen Away By Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a lot happens, more conclusions are reached and a choice is presented.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live! *raises arms in the air dramatically* (Seriously, though, it's been almost a year now.)
> 
> Hot tip for self: Starting other fics while you're writer blocked in one ends up with you having a forgotten fic since multichapters are rather difficult to return to once you let them go.
> 
> Anyway, I may have mentioned last chapter that a twist was to come with the transition from 6 to 7. Let's just say I got really experimental with this one and I'm not sure yet if it's a thing that'll continue happening due to... reasons. W-we'll see! But the point is... time doesn't follow a single path and you should pay attention to the end notes for a thing ´v`~
> 
> (Also, I changed systems and have been having trouble with copy-pasting stuff from Google Docs and keeping it as it is, so... *prays all my emdashes and italics are there*)
> 
> As a last thing, I might go back and edit all the stuff from chapter 1-5 again (just minor things, like... a great lot of unnecessary epithets and such) so if you read it again in the future and notice some slight differences, then that's why.

He thought, once he came to his senses, that his goddess didn’t bestow her gift on him for him to end up as part of an experiment in that dreaded place, like a captive Phoenix in a sunken prison; having her feathers stolen away. Even if he hadn’t been the hero of his tale, — even if his true hero and the legacy who made his way to him in the end were now long gone — even if he was now heavily bound to his fate, that didn’t mean he was to be made a prisoner by those with such ill intentions.

( _ Even if his salvation was at the same time his doom, nothing was to prevent his fate from coming true _ .)

With his captors defeated after their… not so  _ friendly _ discussion, the man left and took to the skies. As much as he wanted to seek the Champion, he was told by the will of the Planet that he wasn’t ready yet, and that a vessel of fate was yet to be found in their world. That her flying Knight was unprepared himself for his part in the ritual that should only take place when the time was right.

He was to rest until the fated hour and so, sought a hidden location to do that; where no one was to bother him during his slumber. A cavern in the underground, which he recalled hearing a legend about, once; one that told of a powerful warrior with mastery of all sorts of weapons and his faithful companion, in a time during which powerful beings still roamed the land before sealing themselves away. The tale implied that the place housed some of such creatures before being stolen away. A version of it told of a deal made between the warrior and the ancient beings, in a way to prevent the former from obtaining the most powerful of the blades after winning a duel, by offering the cave instead.

In any case, the place found itself nothing but devoid of any life in the present, as if it had been frozen in time after the simple stories became legends of a time long gone. At its core, the place had a large, round room with twelve stone formations around it, faintly illuminated by the light of natural materia formations taking over the walls, much like a stage with chairs around it.

Setting himself in the middle of it, the man let himself be frozen within a large crystal. And so he remained, captive, yet wandering; lost deeply in prayer, yet silent; dreaming, but still awake. More than anything, simply awaiting for the day of the great summoning.

* * *

As Sephiroth woke up, he noticed Cloud was still there, asleep and with his hands lost in long, silver strands of hair. Sephiroth tilted his head up to watch him, who seemed peaceful in his sleep despite the things they talked about the night before, and also vulnerable to all sorts of danger that way — something rather concerning if he was to give his opinion on it.

Something about the picture the man made, so relaxed like that, was strangely alluring for some reason. It made him wish he could stay where he was for the rest of the day, but alas, there were things to be done… such as finding a suitable present — because he was going to give his friend one, even if Cloud had kept his wishes simple — and perhaps assisting in baking a great cake; delicious and moist, maybe not the perfect one or something unbelievable but still good enough that Cloud would want to get himself another slice.

Sephiroth tried to leave the bed, only to be held tighter in place.

“Hmm… just five more minutes,” a sleepy Cloud mumbled.

“You get five more minutes,” he said, wiggling himself free of Cloud’s grasp so he could at least sit up, “and I’ll go take a shower.”

A hand got a hold of his hair as he tried to stand up. He looked back to get a glimpse of a rather unsure looking Cloud.

“...Hey, Sephiroth?” There was a questioning hum in response. Cloud hesitated for a brief moment before letting out a question. “If you could go to the past — if you could meet your younger self before, well… everything… what would you do?” Sephiroth was opening his mouth to answer when he got cut off. “Aside from cutting off Hojo’s head and having the young you quit Shinra immediately, that is.”

_ Cloud knows me all too well by now in that sense _ , he thought with a hint of a smile.

He paused, considering the question further. There was so much he could do… Keep himself from sparring during that fated day in which Genesis was harmed, for one. He could be the one to brief his friends on their condition, perhaps, avoiding their ill association with Hollander. But his mind instantly darted off to Nibelheim, again; to the possibility of preventing it altogether and sparing Cloud of the cruel fate that had befallen him, of the suffering of losing his hometown, his mother and some precious years of his life, along with having the one he admired become an enemy to hunt and defeat. Aerith wouldn't be harmed. Zack would live...  _ hopefully. _ It was something he considered once, if only briefly; something he was definitely sure of by now as he knew Cloud better. By keeping what occurred in Nibelheim from ever happening, Cloud wouldn’t have to weep, maybe wouldn't have to worry about the world's end. It made him wonder whether or not, in such a scenario, his friend would be playing idly with long, silver strands of hair while waiting for a reply in such a slow morning as that one was turning out to be. Would he remain as a mere infantryman? Would they even… get to know each other enough to form a bond of any sort other than that of a superior officer and a cadet?

The thought had him staring at Cloud for a moment. If his actions could affect the past, if he were ever presented with the option… A rather selfish side of him alerted him to the wish of wanting to meet Cloud again, — in friendly terms from the start this time — no matter what it took; of wanting to keep the man close to him, to never let go.

Sephiroth found his heart starting to race with such thoughts, that unknown feeling taking over him (yet again) and prompting him to avert his gaze as quickly as possible, as a realization hit him.

( _ Could it be…? _ )

It shouldn’t be... should it? It must have been his anxiety in regards to his duty to the Planet and to his friend; a fear of failing his assigned quest even in such an imaginary scenario.

And yet… he had so little to support the belief that it  _ wasn’t _ . After all, he’d been far too young when it was decided he would become an active part of SOLDIER and what followed that involved the war, promotions, a pair of SOLDIER operatives bringing into his life the ways of friendship and... more war. (And even more war, regarding said friends who eventually left, for his life was apparently the battlefields he fought on.) While at some point during his time at Shinra he’d learned more about the romantic bonds formed between people, — all too aware that there were people he didn't even know who apparently liked him in such a way — Sephiroth was rather certain he hadn’t experienced such feelings for anyone at that time, himself.

(He’d seen enough widows resulting from the brutality of the Wutai war that he never really cared about pursuing a relationship of that sort, anyway. Not with the risks his job offered him. The few close people he trusted walking out of his life one day didn’t help in the slightest, either.)

For a while, given the eventuality of his life, Sephiroth thought he wouldn't experience it at all; that maybe his life would end sooner than most people's because of his job, that such another person in his life like that would eventually be used against him. But then again, he never thought it’d come the day in which a mere infantryman would be able to defeat him. Or the day he would become a threat to the Planet, or receiving the quest of protecting that same infantryman — now a warrior hardened by Gaia knows how many battles — till the right time came.

In the end, Cloud Strife seemed to defy his expectations at every possible turn of events. And Sephiroth would be a fool if he ever denied his fondness of that defiance.

Could it be… could it be that  _ love _ was something to add to that list?

“That’s… a curious thing to ask,” he mused aloud, “I think… First of all, as I might have mentioned once, I’d give myself the knowledge to prevent what happened in Nibelheim. Of the things I regret, the despair I put you through is certainly the biggest one.” He didn't dare to look at Cloud as he said that, fearing even the slight betrayal the expression on his face might provide him. “Then, I’d try to save the few friends I lost along the way.”

If not for Genesis, — who somehow pushed him further towards the path which led him to madness — at least it’d be for Angeal. And Zack.

“What if you didn't have enough time?”

For some reason those questions were sending chills down Sephiroth's spine.

“I’d point myself in the right direction the best I could.” Which probably was a straight line to a certain Vincent Valentine, who’d have the answers for those questions that once plagued him back in the day. Perhaps with a stop at Aerith, even if he wasn’t sure she’d be able to help in the case of his friends’ degradation. “But why are you asking?”

Cloud stopped playing with his hair, all too suddenly.

“I… I just remembered something I heard once. It somehow made me think...” Whatever that uncertainty of his was about, it only seemed to grow. It was clear by now that the shorter man was worried about something, but not letting out much about it. Sephiroth knew better than to try forcing it out of him. If anything, it could worry his friend further and if there was something Sephiroth didn’t want to see was Cloud retreating entirely into his shell.

He preferred it when Cloud smiled anyway, even if acknowledging this now only served to poke at his recent thoughts even more than what he wanted to.

“I see.” At last, he stood up, turning just to fix the covers over Cloud. “Anyway, try not to stay in bed for so long. It’s your birthday, after all.” There was no delaying that shower anymore. Sephiroth needed it; if anything, to clear his head a little of all those complicated thoughts and what the implication of them meant.

Cloud just hummed softly in response and let him ago.

* * *

Cloud rolled the red materia between his fingers slowly, feeling a little detached from everything else as he took in the dullness of its surface, the smoothness it presented in contrast with the part where it was damaged.

Sephiroth had told him about the end of the world as it could happen and there he was, unable to tell the man about this thing he’d been keeping to himself as well, dropping such a specific question like that instead of just spitting it out, feeling as though he had asked something similar at some point but finding himself unable to remember if he truly had. Cloud sighed and rolled onto his side. It wasn’t something he should be considering, was it? After all, how in Gaia could he begin to explain the way he acquired that materia anyway? Or that he shouldn’t let Sephiroth come close to that thing even if he didn’t know why, even if he might have done so despite his friend not touching the sphere at all? And could it be, if only vaguely, that such an item was linked to the Sephiroth’s visions?

All of that materia business and now the possibility of the world’s end… it seemed so surreal. Maybe he should at least take the materia to somewhere else, far away from Sephiroth.

_ But right now it’s your birthday, you fool _ , he reminded himself,  _ go get some breakfast _ .

Nothing could prepare him for the sight of Vincent Valentine in that kitchen, long hair tied in a ponytail, flipping pancakes while wearing one of Tifa’s cute aprons. Tifa herself was there, too, apparently making some juice. The former Turk noticed him first but didn’t even turn as he said, in that usually serious tone of his:

“The birthday chocobo is here.”

Tifa almost dropped the pineapple slice she just picked up in a vain attempt to hide her laugh.

“I see someone’s feeling better today,” Cloud offered, shrugging off his similarities to those birds yet again, just to get the usual “Hn” both Vincent and Sephiroth often gave him as a reply for whenever they didn’t want to go into the specifics.

He supposed that would be an interesting birthday.

* * *

In the end, reunited with all his friends — even Reeve who put aside some time just to attend — Cloud got that big cake he wanted so much and enough gifts for him to feel overwhelmed. He wasn’t yet used to receiving so many presents in a day and the thought of just having a normal birthday after everything they had faced was almost surreal.

Marlene had approached him to give him flowers, out of all things.

_ Those familiar white and yellow lilies... _

For a moment, if only briefly, it felt as if Aerith was there with them too, to celebrate the date. Even if it was just the memory of her, bringing a blanket of silence down on Seventh Heaven for a moment as Cloud broke down before the meaning of it. He didn’t know who patted his back when the tears started, but he was well aware that it was Yuffie who handled him a tissue.

“Y-you’re making me cry too, you spikey-headed jerk!”

She had given him a decorated box, in a style so delicate and Wutaian that it almost felt like being back there for a second, with separators so he could organize all of the materia he’d gathered during their adventures. Except for a particular piece of materia, that box would come in handy. As for the mysterious materia, he had handed it over to Reeve in private, before the cake was ready, for safe keeping.

Cloud accepted her tissue with an awkward chuckle and turned to thank the little girl for the blossoms. As soon as Marlene went back to her father, Sephiroth approached from the corner where he had settled in besides Vincent, silently watching as gifts were given after they all had sang “Happy Birthday” around the cake. The man brought with him a tiny box and at the sight of it, Tifa shifted a little in wonder.

_ It couldn’t be... could it? _

If it was what she half expected, half dreaded to be, then Sephiroth would kneel down. And it’d be the most well kept secret to date to be revealed to their group of friends. Well… almost. It’d explain all those odd quirks she noticed from him since the return from that trip. She leaned a little more towards Barret who happened to be by her side, trying not to have her expectations of it show too much.

Sephiroth… didn’t kneel down.

Tifa kind of wanted to punch him when the ribbon on the box was removed and inside it had one of those boxes meant for jewelry. ( _ How dare he do this without kneeling down?!) _ Because it still could very well be what she was thinking,  _ couldn’t it? _ Cloud was opening the box, eyes still red from crying before this and she wanted to get out of that place immediately as time seemed to flow forever during such an unnerving moment.

“Oh, it’s a wolf…” Cloud started.

_ What _ ?

Sephiroth nodded. “I thought it would suit you.”

Cait Sith let out a long “Ooh…” from his perch on Reeve’s arms, while Cid approached them to offer Cloud a hand mirror.

It really  _ did _ suit the blond, that silver wolf head on his ear.  _ An earring _ . And there she was assuming too much about it. Tifa almost felt silly for thinking about that, but what could she do but assume things when Sephiroth looked at her friend like  _ that _ , so obvious to anyone paying enough attention? (Except well, Cloud. If he knew, he wasn’t saying or doing anything about it.) What could she do but think too much of it when Sephiroth walked to the blond with not just the gift but that — albeit discreet — bright expression on his face?

She supposed this was happening only because that was Cloud Strife, who had a tendency of being in the most specific of the situations more often than it was comfortable.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Nanaki walking past her, tail brushing against her calves, carrying a bag with a gift box inside.

Maybe it just wasn’t her place to think about it.

* * *

As the weeks flew by, for some reason, all those little quirks seemed more noticeable. Or maybe it was just Tifa paying too much attention to them.

The moment Cloud left for a delivery that would require his absence for a couple days, the man would become distracted, often lost in thought. He would, then, either leave to do something else in any other place or take on more tasks than he used to in the bar. He sighed without really realizing he was doing so; a lot more than before.

She heard Marlene asking him once if he was sad, because of all that sighing. It drove Sephiroth to try playing it cool and telling her he was alright. From then on, he deliberately tried to control it whenever people were around him and being who he was, the attempt of disguising it was almost perfect.  _ Almost _ , if Tifa didn’t know better.

Then Cloud would return and the sighing, the distraction seeking and the distant way the man behaved — like a soaked chocobo after the rain — would stop altogether. There was still some worry, yes, but he seemed… happier. Maybe that was an understatement, as he seemed to be (hilariously enough) on the clouds. And eventually, the next delivery would call and Cloud would be gone. The cycle would repeat.

Not knowing what was going on was killing her.

“Say, do you like Cloud?” She ended up asking one day. She couldn’t miss the way Sephiroth dropped the tomato he was holding, catching it on the last second with a knife.  _ Former SOLDIER guys and their cat-like reflexes _ , she thought, trying not to remind herself of the damage Sephiroth could wreck with such reflexes given the right blade. It was better to focus on the way he brought that knife down, slicing the tomato in half with a smooth movement. She’d be a fool if she didn’t admit to herself it looked mesmerizing.

( _ Nice save! _ )

“He’s my friend,” Sephiroth just replied, refusing to face her, “of course I like him.”

“You know that’s not what I meant, right?” Tifa sighed.

Once it was free from seeds, Sephiroth sliced his tomato a little too fast before stopping altogether. He took a deep breath, shoulders rising and falling back down with it.

“Is it too obvious?”

“I guess it’s more a ‘been there, done that’ case.” She took a sip of her coffee. “You… look at him like he means everything to you when he’s around, then he leaves and you look like a puddle of melted ice cream.”

He turned a little to look at her for a moment, his messy, silver bun of hair swinging slightly to a side and getting just a little messier, before turning back to the tomato. His face sort of matched it in color. It was... oddly cute, she thought.

It was also almost surreal considering that the year before, everyone they knew who was journeying around the world together was actively trying to rid the Planet of Sephiroth and the threat he represented to life itself. Now she was in her bar’s kitchen with him talking about a common interest on Cloud. And Sephiroth was blushing, while trying to just carry on with making a salad.

_ The Planet does strange things sometimes _ .

“It’s strange isn't it?” Sephiroth chuckled nervously “To fall for the one whose life I ruined?”

“Hmm…” Tifa finished her coffee. “It’s Cloud. So many strange things happen around him that you could say it’s normal.” A pause, not weird at all. It was an awkward thing to talk about. It kind of made her wish Aerith was there. She’d probably say something that’d embarrass both of them but that would keep things moving. “But does he know?”

Sephiroth shook his head.

“Hn, I… don't feel ready to tell him just yet. I don’t wish to jeopardize what we have built already in case the feeling isn’t mutual.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, that line of thought. But he’d rather not explain the specifics of it or the visions that had him conclude it’d be better not to tell. (At that, he tried not to recall the sight of a very naked Cloud sleeping on the clouds, head on one of his wings and his body under another. Or the recurring sight of Cloud bringing the Masamune up against him. It wasn't the Cloud he knew but those still felt relevant despite their displacement compared to all the other visions.) The sights that told him of a possible chance of him being unable to follow when the time came.

The lack of knowledge was better for everyone in this case.

“Ah, I see. You should still try, though, when you feel ready.” She advised.

“Did you try?” He’d given up on making that salad for as long as the topic would last and just looked at Tifa, who shook her head in denial with a little, yet brief smile.

“He doesn't like girls that way,” she shrugged, “It’d be an useless attempt.”

“Oh.”

Silence then fell, as none of them knew what to say after that. Well, Sephiroth had a salad to finish, anyway.

* * *

Sephiroth wondered if the fact he was sitting behind Cloud, accompanying him to the area near Kalm to hunt had anything to do with a certain someone offering him a little push so he could do something about his feelings. He hoped it wasn’t the case, as he followed Cloud’s movement during a turn.

A flock of wild chocobos ran far ahead, having just passed them with cheerful warks. They were long out of their sight when the earth started shaking, bringing them both to an abrupt stop. Even as he heard Cloud mutter something about how every place in the Planet was suffering with those now, — which was far from being an understatement — Sephiroth’s attention drifted elsewhere, way ahead by the side of the road.

The wolf stared at them from where it was, its image almost like a shadow in the plains. Patiently, it waited. Sephiroth didn’t know why, but his body reacted to such a sight, instincts telling him to follow.

_ Almost like… Reunion. _

He could hear an alarmed Cloud in the wind passing by him as he took on a similar form and bolted off; white paws quickly pursuing the sprinting dark wolf.

Eventually, like a cloud blown away by the breeze, it simply disappeared. Where it faded away, there was an entrance to what seemed to be a cave. Sephiroth turned back into his form of choice and observed, unable to remember being to such a place before. He soon heard approaching footsteps.

“Sephiroth—” Cloud started, ready to question the man about just what made him run off like that, but stopped himself upon seeing that entrance “...What the heck?”

“I saw something. It led me here, but… I don’t recall this cave.”

Cloud walked past him, chancing a step into the cave.

“Well, change of plans then.” He shrugged and continued, expecting his friend to follow. “C’mon, let’s explore.”

Sephiroth simply smiled, an expression unseen by Cloud, and soon, his footsteps were close to his friend’s. Together, they walked on that path; going deep down within the ground, in a place so barren of the promise of life, which offered nothing but the gift of silence instead. There was neither hate nor joy, only the emptiness of a long abandoned space where apparently no one dared to enter.

And, in the very core of it, there was a crystal.

Inside, a familiar face rested, as if untouched by the despair that usually followed his rebelling ways. Sephiroth stopped suddenly at such a sight, only to earn a look of confusion from Cloud. He didn't know what to feel about it, for the last time he saw that figure wasn't pleasant. He knew even less as a white owl flew by and touched the crystal, shattering it, forcing its occupant into awareness.

No longer crystallized, the man fell, using a large black wing to better control his landing. He stood with grace, even as the movement of his coat and hair — which had grown long since that unfortunate day, years before — added a rather dramatic flair to him, and offered his arm for the bird to use as a perch.

Both looked straight at their… visitors. The owl, being the kind of bird it was, seemed to be constantly frowning in a way so resembling of a certain someone that it hurt to stare at the bird for far too long.

“My friend, I see you finally came to confront the terrible fate which has befallen us all,” the man started, “For the Goddess now trembles in pain and for the borrowed time we live in now; the longing for the morrow so barren of hope.”

“Of course it has to be something poetic,” Sephiroth muttered under his breath, somewhat amused at that, somewhat sarcastically, “of course.”

“I heard that. But it matters not when you bring with you such  _ precious _ charge.” The cavern’s… “host” made his way to them, only to take Cloud’s hand to place on it a gentle kiss. “We’ve crossed paths before but a certain bird told me your memory must be faulty for some things. The name’s Genesis Rhapsodos. It’s a pleasure to meet you, oh, healer of worlds.”

Sephiroth suddenly wanted to stab Genesis with the Masamune. More than once. He supposed he was experiencing jealousy, even if he grimaced at the thought of it. But even so, maybe the redhead kind of deserved it for his excessively poetic ways. Or for the way that introduction made Cloud blush as he reacted to it, introducing himself as well. The soft pink on his friend’s cheeks made Sephiroth’s heart flutter a little, of course, but the cause of it… He shouldn't let it get to him like that, given confessing wasn’t exactly in his plans and yet, there he was, wanting nothing more but to shove Genesis back into the crystal he came from, even if it no longer existed.

( _ Well, details _ .)

Genesis offered him a knowing smirk and, if only for the briefest of the moments, Sephiroth was glad the man had taken Cloud’s hand instead of his, as that prevented the possibility of Genesis feeling his racing pulse on accident. He couldn't help but wonder what would be the reaction if his old friend caught wind of it in some way or another. More than just that smirk, possibly.

“Sephiroth. You’re late,” Genesis simply said.

“And how am I supposed to be on time when this place is a hidden cave in the middle of nowhere?”

Genesis looked at him as though he was suddenly speaking in some ancient variation of Wutaian.

“I thought the Planet would’ve told you? After all, you’re her chosen deity, hero of dawn and vessel of fate!” He sounded completely baffled at such absurdity. “At least a vision or two!”

“The visions I had didn't speak of much. And you weren't on them, at all.” Sephiroth would surely remember if that was the case, especially with the way those visions left their mark on him in a way or another and made themselves quite hard to simply forget.

The owl protested as Genesis jerked abruptly, disrupting its peace. It flew to a confused Cloud's head, who watched that exchange completely puzzled and not knowing what to say in face of the surreality of it all.

“How did you get here then? Pure chance?”

“We were in the area to hunt. I followed something I saw. I lost it by the entrance of the cave.” He still thought of it as one of his oddest moments; pursuing an animal out of sheer instinct.

“Well, welcome to Wonderland! I’m glad your white rabbit brought you here, even if it’s on accident!” Genesis bowed dramatically. “Ironically, you're the one who’s late, old friend.”

“It was a black wolf,” Sephiroth corrected, completely missing the reference his old friend was trying to make with that.

That seemed to pull Cloud out of his daze at long last.

“Wait, what?”

“I followed a black wolf here.” Sephiroth tried to explain further. “It had a little patch of golden on its muzzle but otherwise it was—”

“Like a shadow,” Cloud interrupted. “I’ve seen it… when you were sharing your visions with me. It was the last thing I saw there.”

Sephiroth tilted his head to a side in his confusion.

“I don’t remember any wolf in those visions.”

Of that time, he could only recall the sudden vision of Cloud, in control of Masamune, impaling what seemed to be (and could only be) a version of him. That one vision which disrupted everything, that flashed once more before his eyes at that time bringing nothing else but pain in its awake.

A strange silence fell between the three men and the bird in face of the wolf related revelations and it stretched, much like a certain large black wing did. Genesis silently concluded that being in a crystal for so long didn’t do any good for wings or his joints in general. Oh well. He’d have to just deal with it in a way that didn’t attract that much attention to that fact.

“Regardless of what you saw, we're running a little late with this entire business,” Genesis offered, sitting on the closest rock he could, “What do you know of your mission?”

“Only that the world might end and that Cloud here will use my assistance in some way to prevent that. I don't know how.”

That was… so vague. It left him searching for words to tell both of them what the Planet expected them to do; to tell them things he wasn't entirely sure of himself. Somehow it made it stranger to look at Sephiroth knowing what he knew.

He decided to start at the very beginning of it all.

“You know what happens when a life ends, right? That you either get to be reborn eventually or, in some cases, brought back as you are now… stuff like that?” Genesis got a couple nods. “Well, that cycle got  _ so heavily _ damaged by too much mako usage in such little time that things just sped up drastically.

“Gaia’s now struggling to heal and to keep going but that won’t last. And as soon as it comes to a breaking point, the Planet will summon its last resort — Omega — to try to move its energy elsewhere. Which, mind you, may also fail at any point given any of this shouldn't be happening right now. In that case, you,” He pointed at Cloud “will become the true last resort, unless you object.”  _ And a definitely more reliable last resort, _ he thought.

Cloud gave both men a look, considering it for a short moment before letting out the obvious.

“Well, that depends on what I’ll have to do.”

“Time travel,” Genesis simply said with a smile. He watched as the shorter man paled a little with that. “More specifically, a summoning that will guide you to the past. The last summoning you’ll do in this time and place.” He shot Sephiroth a look. “You know how the summon materias came to be, don't you?”

A nod came as a reply, along with further explanation. “Long in the past there were powerful beings roaming the lands and protecting the Planet. But eventually, most sealed themselves away within materia. Some were defeated to be sealed away at death.”

Genesis didn’t miss the way Sephiroth seemed concerned about Cloud’s sudden paleness, yet trying to keep himself from showing much of it. (And obviously, failing.) Or the way his old friend was apparently ignoring the solution to that conundrum Genesis had just given to Cloud, simply answering the question the once crystallized man had thrown at him. Almost as if he wanted to pretend it didn’t affect him, just so he could have his breakdown about it later, in private.

( _ “It doesn’t matter. You will rot,” he had simply left at that, heading for what would become his own demise. _ )

“Clever. Now… well, how do I tell you this…” Genesis searched for gentle ways to put that part, to keep past mistakes from repeating even if he needed to be direct about it. “For you to go back to the past… you must… uh, sacrifice Sephiroth.”

He was about to explain how that would work, but before he could a certain chocobo-haired man was shaking his head in denial, still looking rather pale.

“Not interested,” Cloud just said.

* * *

Out of all things to process, as everything suddenly clicked together, that one made chills go down the his spine. Not far from him, Sephiroth seemed to be having a moment, himself, even if he was handling it better. At the very least, on the outside.

“Sephiroth… he's my friend,” he explained further, “I just can't do that to him.”

Unknown to him, his friend’s heart skipped a beat with that.

“That's exactly why  _ you _ have to do that,” the redhead shot back, “You see, for this kind of summoning you must have a bond—”

“I am not interested. We’ll… find another way.” He fell silent, unsure about that. What that man — Genesis — described implied that they were going to seal Sephiroth away within materia and use  _ that _ to travel to the past. And the method for doing it… Maybe he could’ve done so in the past, when he hadn’t known the man the way he did now, when the opportunity was offered to him. However, that time had long passed, as much as the past he was supposed to revisit.

The materia he earned from his mysterious robed self… was that its true purpose, then? Was it really a version of Sephiroth in the end? He didn't know but it sounded likely as things clicked together, like the pieces of a puzzle or the way the gears of a clock fit and turned with one another.

“...Cloud.” Sephiroth’s low voice sounded almost too quiet in that hidden place.

“I have a summon materia,” he announced, a little nervous, “I don’t know what it does, but…” He looked at Sephiroth as though he wanted to apologize for not saying anything about it before. And Cloud really should’ve told him before, to at least avoid that sudden revelation of it. “I got it from… uh, myself.”

Genesis extended a hand then, “Well, show me what you got there and maybe I can tell you what it does?” but it only served to beckon the white owl over. It perched on the redhead’s shoulder with an audible “hoo”.

“I don't have it with me right now.”

“Reeve?” Sephiroth asked, both due to knowing Cloud enough by then to be aware that if he wanted to keep something away and safe, he’d have it be within the walls of WRO.

Cloud nodded.

“Go get it, then,” he said and couldn't help but think about the time Cloud handed him a certain piece of materia, by his demands, “We’ll be waiting at… the church.” Sephiroth turned his attention to his old friend. “If that’s alright with you?”

“The three of us can fly,” Genesis agreed, further elaborating then just to be sure, despite how obvious it seemed to be, “the owl must come along.”

And with that agreement, once the four of them left the cave, they headed on their separate ways. When they were distant enough, Sephiroth thought that Cloud riding away on his motorcycle looked somewhat like that wolf from before; like a shadow sprinting through the plains.

* * *

Genesis let himself fall onto one of the pews closest to the little garden with a heavy, almost dramatic sigh. Staying in a crystal for a prolonged period of time had done nothing good to his body, indeed, if the way he felt tired but Sephiroth seemed pristine was any indication.

( _ Oh, and was it infuriating to notice _ .)

The owl chose to rest close to the flowers, seeming to relax in the presence of the delicate blossoms. Genesis took in the sight of it with a little pang of regret taking over him. Being unable to bear it for long without falling back into his own despair, he turned to Sephiroth.

“So you truly found your moon and stars in the end, didn’t you?” Genesis grinned. “Or rather, the sun himself.”

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow at that, as if he were puzzled by the question, before turning away to stare at the roof above; the usual way confessions came out of him as Genesis remembered those.

( _ Looking away, so you don’t show the weakness _ .)

“You could say that… if only you remember that those things in the sky aren't meant for anyone's possession,” he said, and with his words, Genesis could almost  _ feel _ the sad smile that most likely accompanied them. “Especially the sun.”

“You mean to tell me he doesn't know, at all?”

“Yes, and it's preferable it stays this way. After all,” Sephiroth said, as he lowered his head and let his face be hidden by the bangs framing it, “he’s leaving, isn't he? To somewhere he can't return from, if I understand it correctly.”

“That's not enough reason to keep him from knowing, Sephiroth.” Genesis shifted on his seat, somewhat annoyed. He wondered about how someone could be so blind not to notice the way Sephiroth behaved around them was different enough to be worthy of questioning. “Even if he leaves, it's better than never telling.”

“I’m not giving him a weight for him to carry along with him. If the feeling is mutual, once he’s left, it’ll trouble him to be aware he will never have it again, not the same way. If it isn’t the case…”

“You're afraid of being rejected,” Genesis noted, causing the other man to shake his head.

“I simply don’t want to put him in that position, that's all.”

“The Great Sephiroth, afraid of being rejected by the one he likes. Who’d know I’d live to see—” The owl flew suddenly to his lap, flapping its wings a little in warning and screeching at him.

( _ Ever the harbinger of honor _ .)

Genesis patted it to demonstrate he understood what it meant and to calm the bird down. He couldn’t help the fond smile from taking over his features as the bird dissolved into happy little noises of appreciation.

Those days, it was a far better option to obey to that kind of judgement than to risk ruining everything once again with a moment of teasing that could evolve into something else entirely. And so, he’d let the little owl take the wheel while repenting his actions; his lacking of notice in the past that he could’ve done something to stop it all from ending the way it did.

“Maybe what I want to say is that you should just tell him before you regret it.” He looked up to see Sephiroth standing nearby, looking at him and the owl a little too intrigued.

“This owl. Is it…?” That was a difficult question to finish, it seemed, but not one that needed finishing at all.

“Not quite. Think of it as a manifestation of him, a remnant. Or yet, if you will… a  _ familiar _ and as expected of Angeal, my moral compass.” Genesis turned his attention back to the bird, wanting to avoid that powerful stare while he said that “Angeal sends his regards, by the way. He said he was angry at us for well, everything, called the two of us fools and manifested his wishes that we should now follow the path of honor. Then… hm, he let his disapproval of the way your beloved handles his poor sword be known and told me that asking you why you thought seven wings to be a good idea was a good thing to talk about for when the time came so we could avoid killing each other or something.”

Sephiroth sat down besides him with a quiet chuckle.

“And he never asked about you becoming a giant knight with  _ armor _ on your wing?” The more he thought of it, the more intriguing but lacking in sense that would become.  _ Armor on a wing _ . The brief sight of it he got while being overwhelmed by information thanks to the Planet deciding he was meant to fight with it instead of against it would never leave his mind. Much like Genesis, maybe it’d always tease him to the point of annoyance.

“Well, it makes more sense than having one of your arms become a wing. Or to just have half a dozen of those below your waist. Seriously, how do you even land like that?”

There was more chuckling, which reminded Genesis of their days back at Shinra, sneaking into training rooms and ruining them on pure accident even while they did simple things like hitting an apple atop the head of one of them with their blades. Angeal had joked once that the training rooms were as delicate as an egg or a piece of paper and that they should handle it with care… before, of course, failing to prevent all three of them from trashing the place once again.

“Tentacles, if I’m not landing on something soft. Otherwise the middle structure absorbs the impact rather well.”

“Why are you talking about my wing’s armor when you have tentacles?!”

Sephiroth looked nothing but amused at the Genesis’ apparent shock.

“Simple. I don’t have armor on my tentacles.”

* * *

By the time Cloud appeared, they had long since moved from matters regarding tentacles to rather necessary, heartfelt apologies; poking at old and badly healed scars in a vague attempt of making up for the past, for the way their friendship ended back then.

Even if those couldn’t fix anything, even if the time they referred to could no longer return nor would the time they had left be extended, it was at the very least some gentleness to be appreciated. In a way or another, they were turning that page and showing sincere regret to each other, which was all that mattered in regards to those topics in the present.

Genesis had also explained to him further about what would happen once Cloud was gone from their world and time entirely; that other than the possibilities of Omega carrying all of the world’s remaining Lifestream to start life again in another Planet or just having to face the world’s end, they could also simply disappear the moment Cloud changed anything wherever he ended up at or yet, their reality could merge with another and  _ Minerva knows how things could go on from there _ , in Genesis’ own words.

But regardless of anything, that conversation only served to strengthen his resolve of not telling Cloud anything about his feelings.

It was pointless given the circumstances, after all, no matter how much he thought about it. But even so, as Sephiroth watched Cloud walking down the aisle, he was hit by a pang of selfishness; his heart begging for him to just say something already because Genesis was probably right — and so was Tifa — and not telling would eventually haunt him during his final hours. A part of him just wanted to pick Cloud up and take him to the Northern Crater, so he could keep him from leaving and they could maybe enjoy a moment of peace of any sort before the end.

And yet, his decision remained unchanged.

The light entering the church through the open door made Cloud appear almost heavenly, like a star that had fallen on Gaia and walked into that church to grace them with his light for a brief moment before his departure. He was definitely leaving. And Sephiroth was going to let him go.

Genesis stood first, leaving a sleeping ball of feathers on Sephiroth’s lap — who felt very lost about what to do with it. He didn’t want to wake it up, that much was certain, but at the same time he wanted to reach out a hand to gently pat it. Patting it gave him an excuse to avoid looking at Cloud that much for the time being so in the end, that was the option he settled down with.

( _ Thank you, Angeal _ .)

However, a stolen glance out of the corner of his eye every now and then couldn’t be helped. He caught a movement or another of black and red as Cloud handed over a materia, also red.

“Never in my life I held a damaged materia in my hand,” Genesis said, managing to draw his attention further to the two of them. He had closed his eyes with an expression of sheer concentration on his face; gloved fingers closing over the little sphere in question, activating it without really doing so.  _ Sensing the materia _ , like one with the ability to do so would do in the lack of the tools often used for it, which wasn’t exactly a common trait to have mastered those days and was far more common of a thing during the times of the old, or so people said. “Or a summon materia whose summoned being has this deep hatred directed towards me. Really, Sephiroth? This much?”

“I can’t blame myself, we know what you did,” Sephiroth offered, his eyes drifting back to the owl to avoid the specifics of that one event.

“I don’t. What did he even do, anyway?”

An awkward tension settled among them. Genesis felt that familiar gaze of his old friend all over him and heard a soft hoot. That much attention being cast on him broke his concentration and he opened his eyes, the mako glow in them still very bright from his interaction with the materia. Sephiroth wasn’t looking at him as though asking for his permission to say it. It was rather a warning.

_ I’m telling him, anyway _ .

“Sephiroth, don’t—”

“He told me back in that reactor in Nibelheim, in crude words, what Jenova was and that her being my ‘mother’ made me a monster as well.”  _ Watering a bad seed and then letting it grow in a deserted library _ . “Then… all of what you’re familiar with happened.”

In a split second after hearing such words, Cloud had lurched himself at the man, grabbing Genesis by the lapels of his coat, shaking him and yelling “You fucking bastard!” before slapping his face, hard. That threw the other man off balance and before he could recover, Cloud was throwing himself at him again, successfully bringing Genesis down and alarming the owl, that quickly went for the materia before it could hit the ground and screeched at the two fighting men once it was in the safety of its claw.

Sephiroth tried not to think much about how  _ that _ of all things made him fall for Cloud a little more.

He watched it with some amusement before leaving his seat to pull his angered friend away from Genesis before things could get any more dangerous, his grip tightening as Cloud started to struggle; all restless rage and bleeding mental wounds from what the Nibelheim incident meant for his life driving him to violence.

But then again, it was Cloud, who had fought against people so much throughout his life that he was tired of it, and soon enough he was turning around; arms tightening around Sephiroth in the same intensity with which he was held as he trembled. He looked nothing like the man who had lurched himself at Genesis — who was casting a cure on himself in an attempt to find some relief — upon learning of yet another cause for the end of that one unfortunate assignment. He looked small, (and somewhat younger) much like a little bird that was left outside in the cold snow, and Sephiroth couldn’t help but run a hand through his hair in an attempt to comfort him.

“Now,” He whispered, “that won’t solve anything, will it?” It earned him a little head shake, followed by a muffled sob. “Breathe, Cloud. We all did awful things back then that we can’t undo now—”

“Well, technically he can. He has the materia for it and everything,” Genesis interrupted.

Sephiroth looked at him for a moment with a serious face.

“Nibelheim was his hometown,” he said and it was enough for the other man to fall silent before he could turn back to Cloud, “He was in a terrible state of mind when he said that and I was already unbalanced by then. Not the best of the combinations.”

_ Fire meet gasoline. _

Genesis watched the exchange a little apprehensive about it. For one, he didn’t want to get punched again, not by that man who didn’t seem like it and yet could punch harder than Angeal could, back in the day. And despite everything, he really didn’t want to get officially involved in Sephiroth’s little...  _ chocobo appreciation adventure, _ no matter how cute and dangerous that blond might be. However, watching the two of them and being painfully aware of what Sephiroth wasn’t telling had him wanting to set something on fire.

Even with his enhanced hearing, he couldn’t quite catch what Sephiroth told the other man next, but he knew with absolute certainty that it was something else, otherwise Cloud wouldn’t be walking towards him again, causing Genesis to  _ flinch _ .

_ Can’t you just keep your murderous chocobo away from me for a moment? _

“You’re an asshole,” Cloud said.

A part of him provided an immediate reaction to that without allowing Genesis any time to think it through.

“Thanks.” And he instantly hated himself as soon as he realized what came out of his lips, but wishing not to make even more of a fool of himself, he added nothing after it. Not far from them, he could hear Sephiroth trying and failing to hide a chuckle.

_ Oh, you bastard _ .

“But,” Cloud started as he reached out for the sword he had left on a nearby pew, “I once heard from a good man, that you can become a better man if you have dreams and honor. And for some weird reason, that man’s teacher was your friend and the original owner of this.” He offered him the blade, the familiar Buster Sword which hurt his heart from staring at it too much, just like the owl did. “So I think… you should have it. Because world’s end or not, maybe you need a heavy reminder not to be an asshole like  _ that _ ever again.”

(Well, it wasn’t like Cloud would need the blade wherever he was going, anyway.)

Genesis didn’t quite know how to react to that other than accepting the sword, feeling his own sins in its weight before running fond fingers over the flat of its blade. In a way, having it felt wrong, but maybe — other than Sephiroth — due to his relationship with the original owner, it was the closest they all would come to having it return home.

After he manifested his gratitude, Cloud went back to the main reason they were reunited there; that red materia with the little scar in its otherwise smooth surface and the things the Planet wanted Cloud to do.

Much like the Odin’s materia, it had two effects. (Unlike it, however, the caster could choose between one or the other.) One of them Cloud already knew well from having to deal with the move himself back in the Northern continent — the ever so familiar Heartless Angel, which was guaranteed to bring one’s energy dangerously down, leaving them vulnerable or just instantly rendering one unable to continue battling properly unless healed. The other was new and was supposed to call the summoned being to take the summoner away to another time through a portal. Genesis had called it Gears of Time. Sephiroth was quick to note how more dramatic that sounded compared to Heartless Angel, just before his old friend closed his eyes and resorted to his poetic ways.

“ _ With loud noise, the gears of time turn,”  _ he started, “ _ opening the gate to that which cannot return, _

_ “The time is ripe, and the Champion is chosen, _

_ “As the end is nigh for this world _ .”

Sephiroth took the moment to roll his eyes at that —  _ So much for poetic interpretations… weren't we short on time? _ — which earned him a sympathetic smile from Cloud. All that talk only served to delay the inevitable, despite the relevant and explanatory nature of it; all unnecessary flourishes added to it that just made every second of it appear to be longer than it actually was.

And Cloud, the chocobo-haired beam of light sharing those moments with them, opened his pretty mouth to delay things even further; by showing his concern about what exactly would happen to the current Gaia they were in after he was gone.

Needless to say, every single possibility Genesis offered him bothered Cloud in some way or another; covered his face with a puzzled expression and planted a seed of doubt deep inside about whether or not doing such a thing was the right decision.

He put the materia he brought with him in one of his pockets and asked for time to sit down and think a little about it all. Sephiroth, in turn, sought out permission to sit down beside him; in silence, not to interrupt his friend’s thoughts.

Near the little garden, away from their pew, Genesis sat down with the white owl, picking up one of the blossoms to place it among the pale feathers; the Buster Sword not so far away from them. It made Sephiroth wonder about what would happen to his old friends, as well — and the new ones he somehow made — in the old, yet new time Cloud could arrive at. Would life be gentle to all of them this time around? Would the degradation afflict Genesis and Angeal again?

(Would he still crave for a mother and be deceived by an alien in that regard, anyway?)

He could only imagine how difficult of a step it should be for Cloud to take; like a captain being told that their ship (that they fought so adamantly for) has a hole in its haul, and that they can’t salvage any of the crew inside it in face of an oncoming tragedy of rather uncertain — but very possibly unsettling — results.

When Sephiroth looked at him, Cloud seemed much like a man adrift in the sea, pondering his little options in an attempt to decide which one was more likely to lead him to shore. It made him want to reach out and hold his hand; to guide him (not like he had “guided” in the past, however) through all that indecisiveness before letting him go to fulfill what he was required to, as to avoid accidentally holding onto the shorter man selfishly and drowning him unintentionally instead of driving Cloud away from that sea.

Sephiroth didn't reach out, however, with an excuse provided to himself that doing so would disturb the his friend’s thoughts.

And so, he waited, until Cloud turned to him with his decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ● [Summon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9101032/chapters/33014127)  
> ● [Don't summon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13246644/chapters/33013794)


	7. Dawn of a Repeating Cycle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning is always about getting a hold of the _controls,_ no matter how glitched things may be.

“I’m going to do it,” Cloud told him, “I mean, it feels weird leaving while knowing what can happen here, but… no matter what I do, it’ll all end anyway, right? Might as well try to keep it from happening in another time.”

 _A chance of happiness in another time,_ he thought. As much as he dreaded abandoning all he’d fought for and all he’d built with the literal world’s end on the way, staying still would change nothing. The chance of bringing Shinra down earlier and easing the suffering his friends and the Planet had gone through because of that company seemed to be worth it. There wouldn't be any further mako abuse, or Jenovas and Meteors. No insanity driven Sephiroths either or burned hometowns, dead friends and men with white owls. If he could help it, Shinra would go down during the Wutai War, no matter how young he was at that time.

(Maybe, it mattered. But Hel, he had walked through pure despair and lived. He could do it again if he had to… right?)

“Hn, I see.” It was all that Sephiroth had to say to him. For some reason, Cloud had expected him to say more than simply that; to wish for them not to fight again or make a remark about the other AVALANCHE members hunting him for Cloud’s unfortunate disappearance. There was something very unnerving about the man acting otherwise. A Sephiroth who closed himself off was never a good sign, as they’d learned in the worst of the ways.

Cloud stood up, both to make his way to Genesis once again and to see if there would be any reaction from Sephiroth’s part. _There had to be one._

“Cloud.” _And there it was._ The man stood up as well. “I… I don’t want you to make me any promises, but there’s something I need to ask.”

“Yes?”

Before his attention was fully on Sephiroth, Cloud couldn’t help but notice the way Genesis perked up at that, however, like a rabbit appearing from a bush with its long ears pointing skyward. Neither of them considered or knew how pointless that was, given what Sephiroth would say next.

“Don’t let me become a monster again.” Genesis turned his attention back to his beloved bird, feeling an odd mix of frustration and disappointment at catching the words from where he was. _Why can’t he just say it already?_ “It doesn’t really matter how you do it, whether you tell me the truth or… end up resorting to more _physical_ methods.”

“I wouldn’t kill you. Not again,” Cloud said, quickly, “You’re my friend and no way in Hel I’m gonna let you become my enemy again.”

The corners of Sephiroth’s mouth quirked up into a sad smile.

“Still, you would, if you really needed to. After all, you’re the only one who can, friend or not.”

“But I won’t have to.” Cloud smiled back at him with an air of challenge.

“Hn, stubborn,” was said in return, albeit with a certain fondness.

“So are you.”

 _And that isn't wrong,_ Sephiroth thought, recalling an old plan of traveling through the cosmos with some ancient alien who came from somewhere far away from Gaia; how he’d simply keep going until the man standing near him and a little touch of fate stopped him dead on his tracks, leaving him in a lair of clouds with a Cloud he was supposed to protect — and even die for, or at the very least, give up his actual form for. Which sounded as if it could’ve been an awkward and difficult process, much like letting Cloud go.

After all, his lack of experience with proper farewells like that one offered him no words to give.

The silence stretched to the point of annoyance, as Cloud couldn’t offer anything either after that. It was different from all the times they parted ways as a delivery stole him away to somewhere else; something more definitive on both ends. The two of them, who had gone from enemies to friends since that time they left the Northern Crater together would face a time in which either one of them no longer existed or one of them would probably see the other as a mere stranger.

(It felt… surreal.)

“I have never said goodbye to anyone like this before,” Sephiroth finally said, “I wasn’t given the chance to.” He looked over to the spot where Genesis was, as if blaming his old friend for that, somehow. To be able to finally bid farewell to someone was both a gift and a curse. “I don’t know how I should be feeling.”

“How _are_ you feeling?”

“Awful.”

Cloud moved forward to hug him, random spikes of hair brushing just slightly against the taller man’s cheek as he did. It made Sephiroth feel less and even more awful at the same time; his confusion at that delaying his reaction.

“Good,” Cloud whispered, “I’d be worried if you were happy to see me go. That’s never a good sign, y’know.”

It was such a light-hearted comment, despite the many implications behind it, that it was difficult not to chuckle. (And, in a way, it reminded Sephiroth of Zack, in the best way possible.)

“I’ll miss you,” he caught himself saying when the words were finally out, surprised by them, himself, as those put something else on the tip of his tongue and he’d rather not say that.

_(I love you.)_

“I’ll miss you, too,” came the reply, making him wish Cloud hadn’t chosen that moment to back away from their hug, with that bright smile he sometimes had on his face that made him look like a star in the night sky. “I’m… glad we could get to know each other outside all of that… uh, you know…”

“...‘Travel the cosmos’ plan that was going on?”

“That, yes.” Cloud nodded with an awkward chuckle. “You’re actually a really nice guy when you’re not trying to throw a Meteor on the Planet or something.”

_(Please don’t leave me.)_

“So are you, from a sane perspective. One of the best men I know.” _If not the best one,_ he thought, feeling it to be true in a certain way but at the same time searching inside himself in an attempt to figure out if that was just biased thinking. Sephiroth had to keep his true reaction to himself as that made the blond blush. “I mean it,” he said, before any protests about that could happen, “And thank you, for everything.”

Cloud nodded once, and was about to turn again intending to resume his path when the ground under them started shaking, making him lose his balance and fall right back into Sephiroth’s arms. And as soon as it came, it passed. That the old church had survived it unharmed seemed like some sort of miracle.

“I really should be going,” Cloud said, looking up and making him realize just how close their faces were from one another just then.

Sephiroth simply hummed in agreement, not trusting himself to speak, barely containing the expression of sadness that took over his face as Cloud turned away from him. He watched as his two friends talked to each other, but not at all paying attention to what either of them were saying; making his way to them so detached that he barely noticed he was doing so until he stood a mere few feet away.

The materia was pulled out from the safety of the pocket it had been in and Genesis took Cloud’s hand, closing it over the red sphere.

“You’ve got one hell of a right hook,” Genesis offered, managing to steal an almost mischievous grin from Cloud.

 _It’s all in the technique,_ Sephiroth had once heard from someone unenhanced whose punches could hurt a lot as well; a small (but then again, he was taller than most people he knew) woman from a town in the countryside that no longer existed because he’d destroyed it, wounding that same young lady when she ran up to him, barely managing to hold the Masamune in hands that were unused to sword fighting but that were eager to obtain some form of revenge.

(If the oncoming end of their world was just a terrible dream… he wanted Tifa to punch him out of the insanity of it all.)

Stopping to think of it, he didn’t know what he’d tell her about that entire event. _Hey, Cloud went to somewhere in the past to save the Planet… but it might very well not be our version of it and so, it’s all going to end, anyway_ just wasn’t something he could open his mouth to say. And if he simply disappeared entirely, wouldn’t she and the others worry until the very final day?

“Cloud,” Sephiroth said, catching his friend’s attention one last time, “Take care.”

Cloud smiled at him and nodded, not wishing the same out loud as he was aware about the fate that would befall that Gaia, one of which not even his former enemy himself could escape. All of them knew it. That sight of him, ready to throw himself into battle, was something Sephiroth would save in his memory as a memento to treasure deeply, for whatever time he had left.

_It’s time._

Standing back, he watched besides Genesis as Cloud held onto the materia with both hands and started praying.

A garden of those flowers which bloomed even despite all the difficulties stood between them, not to be stepped on. They reminded him of a certain someone whose life he had taken, and the presence of a figure in prayer only served to emphasize it, though it also reminded him of a moment spent with Cloud in such a place, before that one trip that took them to locations full of difficult memories.

Suddenly, a large figure came from above, along with clouds and wings that created enough wind in the church to disrupt the flowers, bringing white and yellow petals into the air. The presence of that other Sephiroth added a pressure on the back of his head, but even so, it was Cloud who doubled over in pain before being picked up by a Sephiroth that seemed to be everything both Shinra and Jenova hoped for; an expressionless god ready to lend his power to accomplish something deemed to be impossible otherwise.

(And yet, the way he picked up Cloud, so gently…)

Sephiroth’s throat felt dry, from the moment a strong arm closed around Cloud’s waist to the moment those pale wings rose and obscured him from view, and tighter as clouds swirled around the pair, only to dissipate into nothingness.

In the end, he didn't regret not telling anything. However, that didn't mean he wasn't to be taken by the pain offered by his racing thoughts and heart. His eyes burned and he’d failed in stopping the tears that freely rolled down his cheeks, also realizing he had no words to say about it as Genesis noticed his distress and stepped in front of him to offer some manner of comfort.

Maybe the worst of it was that Genesis was just somewhat taller than Cloud, so hugging him felt quite close to having his beloved in his arms… at least height-wise.

“I think,” Genesis said, “This is the first time I’ve seen you this upset about anything.” At Sephiroth’s lack of any reply other than a gentle nod against his shoulder, he tightened his embrace and whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

They stood like that for quite a while, until Sephiroth took a deep breath and made to leave without any other word. There wasn’t much he could do, after all, as time kept flowing and nothing in his power would either stop fate or bring Cloud back. He could only march forward, hearing the footsteps of a man clad in red following after him and hoping for the best to come out of Cloud’s lonesome journey.

_Now, time to prepare for the world’s end._

* * *

“...alright?”

Cloud’s head was pounding, almost as if he’d been hit by something hard enough to send him flying across a field or as though he’d just taken a dip into the Lifestream. Not only that, but wherever he ended up was clearly moving and definitely not helping with that strong feeling of motion sickness he didn’t really miss. He panted, trying to get a hold of himself.

Of course, after an already painful summoning experience, he had to end up in a moving vehicle out of all places.

“Are you alright?”

He barely felt himself _existing_ in… whatever that moving thing was. And yet, that voice concerned about his well being was one that had been burned so deeply into his being that as soon as he was feeling more like a human and less like floating jelly, he immediately recognized it for the fear and despair its owner once put him through but also for the moments of peace once Meteor was no longer an issue, once he slowly accepted that person as yet another friend. A friend that seemed distressed with his departure but was supportive of it nonetheless.

The man asking him that question wasn’t his friend, even if he looked the same… or probably did, as Cloud couldn't tell, having shut his eyes for the moment because of the pain.

(A stranger with a familiar appearance.)

“Yeah… sorry.”

“My apologies. I didn’t pack anything for motion sickness.”

“It’s… not your fault… sir,” Cloud replied, choosing to behave as a regular cadet probably would upon noticing the uniform he was in, even if calling Sephiroth “sir” felt just plainly wrong after everything.

“Take a look outside,” the other man offered in the lack of any other help that could be provided, “maybe it’ll distract you.”

It didn’t. If anything, it made Cloud feel worse than he already was, realizing where they were and their most likely destination. No amount of memory issues or motion sickness would ever erase the familiarity of the area in his mind. Which, maybe, wasn’t at all a bad thing considering that knowing the past was a starting point in a quest to prevent things from turning out the same way. But at the same time, it was a terrible realization to have in a moving vehicle.

“Heh, he’s always like this. Give him some time after we get to Nibelheim and he’ll feel better,” a familiar voice said.

That… was another realization Cloud didn’t want to hit him at the moment, though he had it anyway. ( _Zack’s alive._ ) It filled him with enough anxiety for his stomach to protest even further. Out of all the times he could end up at, why did it have to be the time during which they were already heading to that dreaded assignment? Most important of all, why couldn’t he remember the ride to his hometown? Had he slept on his way there originally or was that just another side effect of his messed up memory?

“By the way, Sephiroth, you know a lot about materia, don’t you?”

Sephiroth urged Zack to get to the point with a little “Hn”, which soon followed with a brief discussion on materia combinations and strategy that could be powerful against a specific monster. Which somehow had Cloud feeling both nostalgic and even more sick, as if that was possible. And really brief it was, as his very sickness was a good reason to interrupt.

“...Sir, can we... stop here?” The words crawled out of his throat, as he made an effort not to give in to it and throw up right there, which must have been noticed as moments after they were stopping; Cloud wasting no time in dashing out of the truck to the nearest bush.

His stomach was then emptied of whatever contents it had before that entire ordeal — most likely breakfast — but he could feel it heaving again as Zack patted his back and offered him a damp cloth and water. The SOLDIER smiled at him in sympathy, ignorant of the risks that oncoming mission truly held; that there was a chance things could go wrong again and Aerith would never see him in life once more, and another chance that Cloud would simply forget what he was back in the past for, only to repeat everything as though it all were a well rehearsed script until it was too late to change anything.

“Feeling any better now, buddy?”

Zack was a dangerous person, he decided, despite how much good his friend did to the world by simply existing as he was. There was something about the smile, those bright eyes and the cheerful demeanor that kept Cloud from lying, that had him shaking his head awkwardly.

When Cloud had left, it had been with a surge of confidence that no matter when and where he ended up at, he’d be able to change things around. Not that he ever thought such a task would be easy, even with the knowledge of what could happen, but being faced with _that_ of all things for a starter was as good as getting punched in the guts so hard that the air would be stolen from him — just like how it had felt during the summoning. It dragged him down, regardless of his decision to keep moving despite what Nibelheim truly meant, and it shook him enough to make him sick.

He should’ve expected it, as the Planet seemed to offer him nothing but storms with brief periods of peace in between. It had been like so since he was a child, despite his lack of literal weapons back in the day. Talking of which…

_Do I still know how to use a rifle_ _?_

Through his musings, he barely noticed Zack issuing an order that they should rest there for a while, but couldn’t miss an amused Sephiroth countering it with “I don’t remember putting you in charge of this operation, Lieutenant” while not doing anything else to keep them from that little break, and movement as the other two troopers made sure all of them would be comfortable during that time. He couldn't help but wonder how used to his sickness everybody else in the mission's team other than Zack were. Had they actually worked together before, when Cloud’s memory wasn’t yet tampered with and he could remember such a thing; when he was nothing but a naive cadet?

He sat down on a nearby rock, trying to stare at the ground but feeling his mind swirling with the after effects of his uncomfortable _arrival_ and a dozen new questions each time he realized anything about the time he found himself in.

Nibelheim meant the Wutai War was already over, leaving a younger Yuffie to watch her beloved land slowly become a tourist attraction. It also meant that Sephiroth was already mentally unstable and ready to fall from grace, and that Genesis was, most likely, already the kind of person who'd push him further towards the abyss until he either froze on the edge or broke down, taking everything around him along. And that would give time for Sephiroth to bond further with Jenova, becoming rather unstoppable until it was too late.

(Unless, of course, Cloud could stop those events.)

His chances at that point in time looked as dim as a dying campfire, however. Even so, if that was the moment he was given, Cloud would at least try to make most of it. Well, once he was feeling a little less sick, that is.

And yet, little did he know that not remembering this part of the past — or alternate past — well enough would come to ruin any semblance of plan he had at the moment, all in the form of a dragon suddenly diving towards them; of sudden screams and panic that brought back vivid images of a certain cliff overseeing Midgar back to Cloud’s mind. Zack had been distracted enough looking after him that he didn't even notice the oncoming attack, being the very first to be caught by the beast. Sephiroth dashed to help as fast as he could manage, but even so, there was only much he could do and the situation didn't look any good.

Already sick as he was, seeing Zack covered in blood was enough for Cloud to pass out.

* * *

Cloud remembered feeling sick and very tired, even though he wasn’t a vehicle anymore; the image of a bloodied Zack still fresh in his mind. All because they had to stop so he could recover from his sickness.

“So, how does it feel? To be home after all this time?” Something inside Cloud froze with the words, so familiar and fear inducing that it felt harder to breathe. “I have no hometown. I wouldn’t know.”

Out of all things Cloud could remember, having summoned again definitely wasn’t one of them. Or even making his way to the entrance of that town, to be filled with nothing but sheer anxiety as the general spared some words for him. Remembering had never been his forte after his Nibelheim burned down, even if falling in the Lifestream and having some help from a friend with ordering his memories did wonders for him. And yet, not remembering short intervals like that caused Cloud more distress than he was willing to admit.

He couldn’t remember what he said to Sephiroth’s question in his original time, either.

“I…” Cloud started as Sephiroth started to turn away again, thinking he’d get no reply, “I’ve never liked this town, sir. And sir? Everybody has a hometown. Maybe you just… never got to know yours, that’s all.” He tried not to overthink the fact that his answer kept Zack — who was there, completely unharmed — from asking about the general’s family, and instead of the upsetting laughter that haunted Cloud’s dreams countless times, there was a light chuckle.

“Hn, maybe you’re right.”

It made Cloud wonder, if he entertained the man for the rest of that awful trip, whether or not Sephiroth would fail to listen to Jenova and just leave Nibelheim alone.

He’d told the truth about disliking the place but that didn’t mean he wished for it to burn down to black ashes. After all, his mother still lived there and Gaia, he would prefer that she continued living, like every other person he held dear in the Planet. When everything reached a better conclusion, he’d see to it that she would move out to anywhere else in the world that could offer more to her than that backwater town so full of terrible people.

And yet he couldn’t help but think that was a bad time and a terrible place to be at, that maybe it’d be better to just summon again and leave that dreaded moment; hopefully end up in an earlier time that would allow him to keep Shinra from even gaining that much power. However, Cloud had to at least try to change something, so before they could part ways, he used the little window of opportunity to drop a recommendation.

“Sir? I don’t know if this will be of use, but… uhn, there’s a weird man,” He said and that wasn’t exactly wrong to say, considering what Vincent’s habits would look like to most outsiders, “who sleeps in one of the coffins inside the Shinra manor. He told me once he helped your family when they were here a long time ago. I think he might still be around, so… uh.”

Sephiroth cocked his head to a side, intrigued.

“My... family?”

“I think he mentioned… uhn” Cloud pretended that he was trying to remember it when in reality that bit of information, that name, was one of those things that haunted him “Someone named Jenova or something.”

“That,” Sephiroth offered, with such glee hidden behind his discreet expression that made Cloud feel sick to his stomach once again, “that’s my mother’s name.”

 _Oh no, it really isn’t_.

“Maybe you can find out about your hometown, then… sir.” There was just a problem in all of that to be solved, in the form of his involvement with a Vincent he didn’t even know in that time and the possible confrontation that would certainly come from Sephiroth daring to mention him. A gentle lie, just so he could have the actual truth exposed and the risks the library offered removed. He certainly could deal with the side effects some time later, right?

Cloud looked at his feet, briefly searching for something that didn’t sound suspicious to say.

“Sir, if you… meet him, could you please not mention me? My family and he, uhn… kind of had a really bad argument.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

Sephiroth still looked somewhat in awe as he turned away to enter the inn, (leaving Cloud to his own devices) though most people would have a hard time reading his mood. It left Cloud wondering if that was it and if all that time, everything he needed to do to prevent the incident in Nibelheim was tell Sephiroth where and how to find the right information about his past in a simple and brief conversation in front of the inn. Granted, at the time he’d been a naive cadet with a dream, barely able to open his mouth because the person he looked up to was right there, standing in front of his rather abusive hometown and directing a word or two to him. And looking at his reflection in the closest window confirmed to him that despite his mind, he was still that cadet in a way, due to having assumed the position and body; the latter which bothered him, as he feared for his younger self’s safety.

Cloud left to the outskirts of the town, keen on having some time by himself after all of that, when he noticed Sephiroth coming the same way, not quite realizing Cloud’s presence and making his way towards the old manor, until he was far enough to be nothing but a blur of black and silver.

Just moments later, Cloud felt a sudden shift, almost as though he were falling yet floating at the same time.

* * *

“I have no hometown. I wouldn’t know.”

Cloud didn’t feel nauseated anymore, though the words still hit him hard.

He was standing by the entrance of Nibelheim again, with Sephiroth asking him the usual question and Zack ready to break in, wanting to know more about their General’s family. Another infantryman, whose name was long lost in Cloud’s memory stood there as well, unaware of the terrible events that would take place in that little mountain town.

There were only so many times Cloud could bear to walk into Nibelheim, as a cadet following his superiors, while knowing rather well what could happen.

Shoving his hand in his pocket, he quietly called for help, for a way to escape that place to somewhere else, anywhere he would have more time available to come up with a proper plan to avoid all the misfortune that would lead to a premature end. Help that felt like an icy wind coming to kiss him farewell.

Help that threw him back right where he had been, at the entrance to his hometown, prompting another summoning.

Cloud arrived seconds later but it was still the same place, at a similar time, with nobody aware of any of it.

“What about family?” Zack was asking, worried about a man with silver long hair standing not far from the rest of them.

( _Please, please take me away. Please._ )

Arriving at the same location a fourth time was disturbing.

Maybe, in the end, Nibelheim was his only option and there was nothing that could be done about the Wutai war or anything else that happened before that dreaded assignment; there was no proper time to do anything to prepare Sephiroth for the truths he sought, other than shoving him in Vincent's way, hoping for the best. And even then, he could get unlucky and have the general refuse to listen to him at all. There was no time, he thought, while his fingers curled around a piece of materia that, he supposed, was meant to give him all the time in the world, in a way or another.

Cloud thought of stopping, of flowing with the motions and hoping he wouldn’t be taken to another time so suddenly until it was safe to lead his former enemy and friend away from that worrisome path he was taking without knowing much about its truth. He took a step forward, thinking he'd enter Nibelheim again.

He was sure that he didn't summon.

He was warped to the reactor, instead; a few feet away from the Buster Sword and even fewer heartbeats away from the hastened decision that changed his life, his body and his memories of the past. Sephiroth was touching the glass of Jenova’s container with nothing but sheer reverence, unguarded in the face of certain danger as if believing nothing would stop him at that point. Cloud reached out for the blade, but stopped.

He couldn't do that again. Not when he had moved on and accepted that nothing he could've done at that point would bring his hometown back, not when he had known another side of Sephiroth, even if the one standing before that monstrosity wasn’t the man he knew. Not when looking at that Sephiroth brought images of raging flames and death, leaving him frozen right where he stood.

Suddenly, he felt younger and powerless.

“Mother… I’ll get you out,” Sephiroth whispered, the sound of his voice taking over the silent chamber, “We’ll be together soon, you don't need to fear anything, anymore.”

Cloud couldn't even notice he’d teleported out of that situation and into another one entirely, from the way seeing Sephiroth attempt to soothe Jenova left him paralyzed in the awakening of traumatic memories. Tears started rolling down his cheeks slowly, hot against pale, cold skin. He was only pulled out of such state by Zack sitting near him on the bed and touching his shoulder gently. They were still in Nibelheim, sharing a space in the local inn.

He didn't know what part of that all exactly motivated him to do it, but as soon as he was aware enough, he turned to his friend, only to hug him tightly; maybe, if he held on with all his might, everything would stop happening so quickly and being so much to follow. Perhaps, when he opened his eyes again, he would be in Nibelheim no longer and would be able to do something without his body and mind offering that kind of reaction. But at the same time, he was afraid that being in the safety of Zack’s arms like that would either cause something terrible to happen or that it’d be short lived, that someone or something was going to take that away from him. Or yet, that maybe he wouldn’t achieve anything in the end anyway and everything would be in vain.

That last thought had his heart racing, pounding so fast that not only he could hear it, it also made his chest hurt. His breath quickened, yet Cloud felt breathless; a sensation quite similar to the times he heard a voice in his mind that was trying to take over his body, trying to steal his control as though he were nothing but a puppet, but that felt stronger even without someone else behind it. Cloud shut his eyes and tried to fight it, but it kept getting worse, and the more distressed he felt about it, more afraid he felt that something bad was finally happening despite him not having done much.

There was a little commotion as he opened his eyes again, realizing that Sephiroth was there in front of him, but being unable to make out anything the man was saying in his state. His voice reminded him of the reactor, so far away in the mountains, and everything that happened there; of Sephiroth being so gentle to Jenova while Cloud failed to pick up the Buster Sword so he could repeat an unwanted past.

 _Oh_. He had traveled yet again, without realizing.

He had been torn from the safety he sought and Sephiroth was there. And Cloud didn’t know whether that meant he was safe or in great danger.

* * *

“Breathe, cadet,” the general offered in an almost whisper, his hands firm on the blond’s shoulders. He proceeded to demonstrate how to do it once he realized that wouldn't yield any results, slowly taking in a breath and releasing it after a few moments. Sephiroth was starting to grow concerned that it wasn't going to work and trying his best not to show that fear when the cadet began to mimic him, struggling with it for a couple minutes before starting to calm down at last. The infantryman kept his wide, blue eyes on him as though he was going to disappear any time soon, while Sephiroth watched for any signs that another episode like the one that was just passing would follow.

It seemed, however, that everything would be fine.

“There you go.”

Behind him, Zack made to approach, a little hesitantly, keeping his voice as down as it was feasible.

“What happened?”

“He had a panic attack.” That answer seemed to make Zack feel uneasy, so Sephiroth added. “Give him some time. He’ll be alright.”

The agitation, however, drew the attention of a girl with long, dark hair who wore clothes that reminded him of movies he’d watched with Angeal and Genesis, a long time ago. It was hard to believe that there were people who actually dressed like that, hat and all.

“Cloud?” She called, clearly knowing the cadet. “Cloud!”

She made it past Zack before facing Sephiroth, who stood between her and the infantryman much like a wall would.

“I fear that he’s unwell and unfit for a reunion at the moment,” he said, ready to ignore the girl’s wishes. It might be a cold thing to do, but it was the best he could do at the moment to ensure the blond’s safety. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

As carefully as possible, he presented the cadet to Zack, letting the SOLDIER lead the men to the inn; closely following so he could deal with the check-in himself. After all, Zack was the one between them who was better with social niceties, with cheering people up. And if there was something that cadet really needed after that situation was someone who could offer him that sort of relief.

Maybe later, given the town had a Shinra property, Sephiroth would find relief as well.

* * *

Cloud wasn’t saying much, if anything at all.

Zack assumed it was an aftereffect of the episode his friend had, which came so suddenly and out there in the open. There were feelings and vulnerabilities that were meant to be private, to be shared with only a handful of people one could trust, especially if the one sharing those feelings was as quiet and reserved as Cloud was. There were things that could affect one even more if they happened in public spaces. That made people look much like flowers, which could only take a strong enough wind before having their petals torn off.

Thinking of that made him wish Aerith was there with them, despite the hardships of his job. She’d probably touch Cloud’s cheek, say a couple words or hug him for a moment and it’d do more for him than any of them could. If anything, she would be able to distract him from that matter in the earnest, unlike Zack, who’d push his personal pains behind a smile as he offered help, instead of facing them.

While he had never come close to having a panic attack, at times Zack still dreamed of Angeal; from the mess he got himself into by following Genesis, to the genetic specifics that collaborated to that and to the end his late mentor reached. An end by the student’s own hands.

Some sort of assisted suicide.

It didn't help with the mourning process in the slightest and many were the occasions where Zack just ended up going to the church to seek comfort, to allow the smile to fade for a moment and the vulnerabilities, the pain and loss to blossom fully.

He watched with concern as Cloud curled in on himself on one of the beds; arms pulling legs that still trembled slightly closer to his chest. Zack couldn’t help but think his friend looked like a sad baby chocobo.

_Maybe… if he was taken back to his family he’d be alright?_

“Hey, buddy.”

Cloud looked up at him as though he was afraid to do so. It made Zack wonder what happened to him in that town that could cause such a response when returning there; how long his friend had been holding on to keep himself from breaking down since the destination of their assignment became known.

He sat on the bed, too, reaching out to touch Cloud gently, only to have the cadet move away from him.

“Cloud—”

“I don’t wanna be in Nibelheim anymore,” Cloud simply said, with an air of detachment to his voice that was reminiscent of Sephiroth, and rather concerning when coming from his friend out of all people. “It keeps... happening.”

“What keeps happening?”

“This.” There was a hint of hesitation there, prompting Zack to tilt his head to a side, as if urging him to explain further. “Nibelheim. It keeps repeating and there’s… not a lot of time to change things. I keep seeing it happen and I can’t… Gaia, I c-can’t…”

( _I can’t kill him again. And he’ll kill us all. I need to save him. I can’t save him. Not here, not now. We’ll all die. I don’t have any control over this. It keeps happening, keeps happening, keeps happening—_ )

And just like that, he was on the verge of panic again. It apparently didn’t help that Zack was reaching out to touch his forehead, intending to check whether or not his friend had a fever, — which Cloud certainly didn’t, by the way — as Cloud began panting again, latching onto his arm with a vice-like grip.

Zack found himself mimicking Sephiroth’s earlier actions so he could get his friend to calm down again and maybe, _maybe_ clear up the confusion surrounding his words. By the sound of it, something definitely happened in that town and Cloud was afraid (terrified) that it’d happen again. Zack wanted to know but, at the same time, he was also growing afraid of knowing it as he watched the fear on the face of his friend settle down but not leave.

He didn’t know what to think of it as Cloud finally continued, telling him Sephiroth was slowly losing his mind and that the things stored in the reactor, (monsters, things left behind by a certain someone of the Science department) along with Genesis showing up would finish the job up. He couldn’t help the weird sensation in his gut that came from the fact that, yes, he hadn’t anything to offer as a protest, he hadn’t any proof that what Cloud spoke about wasn’t true. Sephiroth had been acting strange, after all, more aloof, even.

He couldn't keep himself from asking how Cloud knew all that, how he was so sure it was going to happen.

And when he didn't quite know what to do with the answer, — that Cloud came from a future in another, dying Gaia and was fighting for a chance to prevent a terrible fate from coming true — his friend started closing in on himself again.

It seemed that Cloud (if his crazy story was true, and as absurd as it seemed it most likely was, as nobody could be _that_ good of an actor) had been caught in some sort of loop, at a point things were already in motion and heading to certain destruction, just like a train out of control ready to crash into town.

_Well._

Many things which he supposed unbelievable at first had happened. Essai and Sebastian ended up the way they did, losing their minds and not coming back until the last moment. Angeal deserted the company to join Genesis. He’d seen the two of them sprouting wings, degrading; saw Angeal fusing himself with monsters. He’d tried to help but was too late to make any changes.

It was difficult to process the unbelievable when informed of it, but… that time around, Zack wanted things to change, for the better.

“So how can I help you?” He ended up asking, drawing a sigh of relief from his friend.

Cloud was still somewhat shaken, but he looked at him with the face of someone who had assumed a position of leadership before. He lowered his voice to a whisper; nobody else should know about his intentions after all.

“We’ll probably need to explode a reactor.”

* * *

Cloud thought on the words Sephiroth said to him before he left, finding that he missed the man already; in the little details such as the way he looked in casual clothing, out of uniform and free from the obligations of the past. Of his knowing about his mistakes and trying to do it right. They had a great deal of history together, even if many parts of that were painful or simply weird.

That other Sephiroth, right before the time Nibelheim was supposed to go down, was someone who didn’t share any of it, though he seemed willing to entertain him and engage in a brief conversation as Cloud approached him more as a person than the feared figure of the general that all the propaganda posters wanted to show. He tried to be reassuring, polite, grateful that Sephiroth had helped him calm down when he panicked.

He talked about not having a father, himself, about feeling isolated from the other kids back in the day; about only having friends when he went to Midgar and even so, some left him anyway.

Whether Cloud stayed or not, Sephiroth would need all of that.

If anything, he’d look at the sunset through the window and he’d have something to think about that wasn’t Jenova or her plans. And when the following morning came, he wouldn’t have to think about her anymore, at all.

Zack offered himself to stay awake to keep watch, taking turns with the other infantrymen. There was no questioning that decision, but he teased Sephiroth anyway, saying that the man needed his beauty sleep or otherwise all of them would be doomed. Sephiroth pretended he didn’t want to chuckle at that; another of those little things Cloud missed about the man he left behind.

And so the night came.

The moon was hidden behind the clouds as Sephiroth slept, undisturbed and about to remain that way. Cloud slipped out the bed as quietly as he could, getting his things on the way out. He only stopped once he met up with Zack, in the inn’s small kitchen. His hands worked boots and belts back into place as they ran through the plan one last time.

There was a route in the mountains that was almost free from the dangers of the main one, meaning they could get to skip the dragons' sight if they were fast and discreet, along with bombs and dorkyfaces.

Cloud worried almost constantly that Sephiroth had definitely noticed something strange and was probably following them; a wolf stalking his prey from the safety of the shadows, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

The only howls in the wind, however, belonged to Nibel wolves, rather than to the Masamune slashing through the air. It was eerie, nonetheless; left him imagining that his younger self, lacking in experience, would probably freeze for a solid minute under the prospect of making to the reactor that late at night, the fact a SOLDIER friend would be by his side or not making no real difference in the face of his fear.

His teenaged, unenhanced body felt strange.

Even so, they both made it to the reactor in one piece, sighs of relief escaping them as they approached the stairs and wandered inside.

“Ok, so… cut open that door,” Cloud said, pointing out to the familiar door over which the word Jenova was written. “You need to see something.”

“Sure.”

Behind the heavy door, inside the next chamber, there was a tube leading to something hiding behind a metal doll with wings. Cloud reached to touch Zack’s arm just gently.

“Remember when I said Sephiroth’s slowly losing his mind?” There was an answering nod and so, he continued, “Well, the thing behind that doll… Professor Hojo used some of her cells to make Sephiroth the way he is. But she’s still alive in there and… uhm, she can influence and control his mind if she wants to.”

And Gaia, did she want to. Very much, so.

Zack walked up to the doll, then, wanting to peek at what was hiding behind it. When frustration took over him as he couldn't get a proper glimpse, he pulled the metal structure out as Cloud thought about Sephiroth possibly doing the same in another time. It let out a loud, uncomfortable noise as it came out; tears of oil oozed from its lifeless eyes.

(The strength of a SOLDIER was amazing.)

“Holy shit,” Zack couldn't help but say, barely remembering how to breathe.

“Yeah, she usually causes that impression,” Cloud chuckled awkwardly. He would rather set that reactor on fire and run just to never look at the alien ever again. “Zack, meet Jenova. She eats planets out until they’re lifeless and she pokes at people's minds for a living.”

“Doesn't sound that fun at parties.”

Trust Zack to make him laugh even in a situation like that. Gaia, he’d missed him so much. That he had forgotten about that man for so long was an injustice of its own.

“She isn’t, really. But she can make Sephiroth think she is. And well… people won’t scream out of happiness.”

There was a long pause, during which Zack simply touched the glass of the tank just gently and stared at the alien inside it. _Maybe a pause far too long,_ Cloud thought as the silence stretched between them, unsettling him. It didn’t sit well with him to be in the same room as Jenova, with someone else looking at her that quietly.

( _The last time she was stared at like that, Sephiroth had—_ )

“So, Cloud, can I set this on fire?”

For the briefest of the moments, Cloud felt as though he wanted to throw up; the ghosts of the past he once knew and lived through echoing in his head, telling him that if it happened once, it could happen again despite his wishes, and again, even if he summoned and left. _Again._

“Do it,” he replied, trying his best not to let his discomfort slip away with the words.

He watched as Zack melted a hole in the glass, low enough for Jenova’s body to be vulnerable without the mako solution around it. There was a dull noise as she collapsed against the tank, wet hair falling to a side to reveal the empty, large hole where her other eye should be. Cloud assumed it might be among all those organs and appendages sticking out of her torso, but he didn’t want to confirm that theory. He simply closed his eyes, waiting for the sound of the flames that soon came into existence.

Jenova burned.

Unlike Nibelheim, there was some beauty to it that forced him to open his eyes again. When his hometown had fallen, she’d found a heir to carry her legacy on, bringing death to more people than he could count. With her gone, hopefully, people would live on undisturbed by the sort of danger the Calamity could bring when given the right tools, the right people to influence.

And Zack, though he initially questioned the thought of causing the reactor to explode, went with the motions; made the problem it had worse so that, in a few minutes or so, things would get out of their control.

Then, Cloud supposed, they’d get to go back to the inn. If Sephiroth was awake for whatever reason, they would pretend to be switching turns and hope the man would buy that. An exploded reactor up a mountain in such a backwater place would be easy to explain; whatever problem it had got to a breaking point before they could even get to it. Shinra would send a repair team to either rebuild or work it into a functional state. Or they’d just leave it as it was.

Regardless, Sephiroth would never go inside or know about the reactor’s former contents.

They were just leaving when Zack stopped abruptly at the entrance, causing Cloud to bump into him and start panicking because they had to get away from there as soon as possible or else they’d be caught in the oncoming explosion. He moved a little to take a peek at what made his friend stop and froze, himself.

Sephiroth had gone after them, in the end, and he didn’t look any happy about it. He grasped the Masamune’s handle as though he wanted to snap someone’s neck, hair in disarray and coat unbuckled. Cloud took a step back at the almost feral but confused expression on the man’s face, who panted as if he’d run his way up the mountain.

“Zack,” whispered Cloud, trying to remind his friend that (ironically for him) they were running out of time.

A hand reached for the Buster Sword, bringing it into position, and they moved; carefully at first before dashing away from the reactor. Just as Sephiroth followed them, however, a particularly large zuu came down from above, pulling the man’s attention away from whatever he wanted from both of them. He fought it, though not as gracefully as he usually would, and reached a hand to his head once he was done with it, seemingly on the verge of a collapse.

That was when the reactor finally blew up.

Zack had been on his way to Sephiroth but stopped abruptly, detained by the resulting quake of the explosion. He barely had time to scream in alarm as Cloud lost his balance too close to an edge, falling from the impressive height of the mountain as he was unable to recover in time.

The air howled around Cloud as he reached out to secure something small and red in his fall.

And so, he prayed; wished to be somewhere else, somewhere safer where he could plan things out properly instead of risking a process of trial and error, which was so full of error and things going against his will. He wanted nothing but to go to a place that felt like home, so he could find comfort for his failed attempts at fixing some sort of sand castle that the waves were already causing to fall apart.

More than anything else, he needed more time than just that.

Under him, suddenly, something soft stopped his fall for the moment. Someone who made him miss what he’d left behind, but who was still different from the one he personally knew; a friend, an old enemy.

Before his awareness kicked in further than that, however, Cloud was released again, only to fall on a different sort of soft surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ● [Return to chapter 6's Save Point if you wish to look into another universe](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9101032/chapters/33013296#chapter_6_endnotes)  
> ● Otherwise, proceed onwards (Soon™)


End file.
